


If I Should Ever Come Back

by thestarkswillendure



Category: Virals Series - Kathy Reichs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disability, F/M, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:26:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarkswillendure/pseuds/thestarkswillendure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about choices, change and a question as old as time itself. What if?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All That Glitters is Not Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Turn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/879852) by [Saras_Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saras_Girl/pseuds/Saras_Girl). 



_All that is gold does not glitter,_   
_Not all those who wander are lost;_   
_The old that is strong does not wither,_ _  
_ Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

_-JRR Tolkien_        


Tory sat in a corner of the room, sipping champagne and watching as Charleston’s wealthiest and most beautiful milled around the Claybourne Manor ballroom. The room shone a warm inviting glow, sharp, bright and full of life but the glamour had long lost its effect on Tory. Instead she felt as if everything couldn't look any more drab.

She hated these social events just as much as she’d hated the debutante events Whitney made her attend when she was younger. Despite everything she’d been through, part of her still felt inferior to these people, the same girls she went to school with and their stinking rich families. It didn't matter how often Ella reminded her that SHE was the one engaged to Charleston’s wealthiest, most eligible bachelor, Tory still felt out of place in times like these. Catching the eye of one of the girls clustered around Ashley Bodford and Courtney Holt, the remaining members of the Tripod of Skank, Tory sighed tiredly because she just knew they were talking about her. It was obvious by the way their eyes flickered over to her and how they laughed obnoxiously behind their hands as if Tory couldn’t see them.

Setting her champagne down, she stood and smoothed out her dress. Passing by the little group, Tory ran a hand through her hair surreptitiously making sure they could all see the ring on her finger. By the way they fell silent, she knew it had worked. Finding little joy in the pettiness, she weaved around the guests, catching snatches of conversations about the latest scandal or Friday's game. She found Chance near the entrance to the ballroom, talking to some investors interested in Candela’s research. Waiting patiently for him to finish, Tory glanced around the room, all too aware of the eyes on her.

It was no secret that the high-class people of Charleston viewed her as an outsider, not that Tory particularly cared. It’d been almost 2 years since Chance and Tory had gotten together and frankly, they were just bitter people. Long gone were the days they still remembered her perfect curtsy at her debutante ball.

Chance finished talking, turning to her and smiling that blinding smile that to this day still made Tory’s cheeks flush.

“I’m going to turn in for the night. Will this last much longer?” Tory asked quietly, mindful of the group of businessmen in front of them.

“We were just wrapping up. I’ll be upstairs in a bit,” Chance whispered, lips brushing her cheek. Tory nodded, pulling out of his arms and curtsying slightly in acknowledgement to the gentlemen before her. Speed-walking her way out of the ballroom and into the foyer where the grand staircase was situated, Tory shook off the unease she felt. Upstairs, the halls were dark and Tory felt that same thrill of fear she felt the night those men broke into the manor all those years ago. Walking through these halls, it was almost as if she could feel the ghosts of their younger selves creeping around. Her heart felt heavy just thinking about it.

Claybourne Manor hadn’t changed much since then, having lost much of it’s glamorous effect on Tory after having lived there for about a year. Living there felt like living in a gilded cage museum, one giving the illusion of warmth yet cold and impersonal. It drove her crazy sometimes; the constant scrutiny, having to play polite with people that cared for nothing but advancing their status, the intrusive questioning. She felt like screaming sometimes. If only she could have somehow told her younger self.

Coming to a stop before the master bedroom, Tory tugged on the door, stepping inside and turning the dial to brighten the room. From his doggy bed, Coop looked up at her miserably. Tory crossed the room, kneeling by the wolf dog and petting him gently.

"I'm sorry, boy. I'll take you out on a walk tomorrow. Promise," Tory says to him, Coop whining in response. Kissing him on the head, she moved to the closet, slipping out of her dress as she went. One thing Tory still wasn't used to was the abundance of dresses and jewelry and shoes that now dominated most of her closet. How she longed for jeans and sweatshirts and hoodies.

Having slipped into blue cotton pajamas, Tory sat on the window sill, watching as the guests began to leave in their expensive cars and rented limousines. Her gaze shifted from the streets down below to the sky. High above, you could barely see the stars with all the light pollution but one lone star shined in the inky darkness. She watched it twinkle, wondering where she would be in this moment if not here, living this life.

Much later, Chance slips into bed beside her, moving to kiss her. Tory turns away under the guise of sleeping, feeling the way he stares at her for a moment before turning his back to her. In minutes, his breathing has lulled into deeper, rhythmic breaths. Tory stares at the bright beam of moonlight that filters in through the window, the memories that run through her head a gentle lullaby that put her to sleep.

* * *

 

Tory's feet pound against the pavement, her blood pumping to the rhythm of the music. Alongside her, Coop keeps pace, happy to be out of the house. She likes running just as much as he does, it's the one time of the day where she doesn't feel confined.

She turns down on the street that leads to Morris, passing by the sleepy town of Folly Beach, running across the bridge and down the familiar paths of Morris until she reaches the door of her old home. Swiping her sweaty hair out of her face, she rings the doorbell and waits, listening to Whitney puttering around inside with Jackson. Coop comes to a stop next to her, tail wagging and tongue lolling, back from the dunes he’d disappeared into the second they’d crossed the bridge.

Surprisingly, its Kit that opens the door, a bowl of what looks to be potato salad in hand.

“What are you doing here, kiddo?” he blinks at her owlishly.

“Hi dad. Just dropping in. Is that okay?” she asks, stepping up to hug him. How bad of a daughter do you have to be that even your own father is surprised to see you?

“Of course. You're always welcome here, Tor. This is your home. Are you staying for lunch? Whitney made chicken pot pie.”

Oh god. Tory almost moaned at the mention of Whitney's food. It’d been so long since she'd had some.

“Yeah. Where's Jacks?” Tory asked, toeing off her shoes and letting Coop into the house. Coop shoots off into the kitchen and a few seconds later, Tory hears Whitney’s indignant shrieks. Tory grinned and Kit smothered a laugh. Whitney never had quite gotten rid of her fear of Cooper even though Coop was a lot less threatening to her these days.

“TORY!”

Little six-year old Jackson came tearing down the hallway on short chubby legs, launching himself into Tory’s waiting arms. She swung him up on her hip, blowing kisses on his cheek. He giggled, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. God, Tory adored this little boy.

He was absolutely precious. She knew that Whitney and Kit had tried many times before to conceive, something she tries not to think about too often, but it just hadn't happened until Jackson came around. Being a sister was a new experience for Tory but one that she loved wholeheartedly.

“I missed you, you little monkey. Where's my kiss?” Tory asked, following Kit into the kitchen.

Jacks’ little blonde head popped up and he kissed her cheek, leaving a slobbery mark behind. Tory wrinkled her nose at him and turned her attention to where Whitney was wagging her finger at Coop.

“No. Bad boy. That food is not for you. Go get your food bowl,” Whitney said. Coop stared at her, head cocking to one side in consideration before shooting off in search of his food bowl.

“Hi Whit,” Tory mused, leaning to hug her with Jacks balanced on her right hip.

“Tory. Where have you been? We never see you around here anymore,” Whitney frowned, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel.

“I know. I'm sorry. I've just been busy at the company. There was this huge production line mix-up and I had board meetings to attend.” Tory explained, setting Jacks down in a chair.

“I never did understand why you chose to work at Candela. I thought you wanted to go into forensic science like Aunt Tempe,” Kit said, setting the potato salad down.

“I changed my mind,” Tory replied, tone off. She couldn't tell him she was trying to find a way to reactivate the parvovirus genome that had altered her DNA as a teenage and endangered the lives of her and her friends. Kit watched her suspiciously.

“So why are you home today? I thought you would be at Loggerhead,” Tory asked, voice casual enough that the change of topic didn't raise suspicion.

“It’s Sunday, Tor. Everyone has the day off,” Kit looked at her strangely. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Tory stared at the table surface, aware of the eyes on her. Whitney came around the table, laying a manicured hand on Tory’s head. She wrinkled her nose, wiping the sweat from Tory’s forehead off on her jeans.

“Well, you feel a little warm but that could be because of the running. Why don't you go upstairs and shower off while we finish up lunch? Maybe lay down for a bit,” Whitney suggested, carding a hand through Jacks’ blonde curls on her way back to the stove.

“Yeah… I think I will.”

Tory made her escape upstairs, Coop at her heels. Peeling off her tank top, she passed by her desk, catching sight of something tucked into the corner of her mirror. It was a picture from freshman year. It was her first day of school at Bolton and Kit had come down to the pier to see her off with the boys. Hi was at the front of the boat with Tom, doing a ridiculous pose, Bolton jacket inside out like always. Shelton had his nose glued to his phone as per usual, Tory was staring up blankly at the camera from where she sat and beside her was Ben, cracking a rare smile.

Tory smiled sadly, swiping a hand over the picture to rid it of dust. She set it down on the dresser and looked through her closet for old clothes she’d left behind. After showering, she went back downstairs to the kitchen where Kit was washing dishes and Jacks was petting a sleepy Coop.

“Where's Whitney?” Tory asked, grabbing her plate of food and sitting down at the table.

“She went upstairs to sleep, she's been tired lately. You know she's in charge of the debutante committee now and the season is wrapping up.”

“Mhmm,” Tory hummed in response, savoring the delicious taste of chicken pot pie. “I wanted to ask you. Where’d you find this picture?”

Tory dug the picture out from the bag she’d put her stuff in, laying it on the table. Kit leaned over the table to look at it, squinting a bit.

“Whitney found it. She thought you’d like to have it,” he said, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You need glasses,” Tory accused, pointing her fork at him threateningly. Kit gave her a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’ve been meaning to go but I haven't found the time. I don't like leaving Whitney alone with Jack for so long.”

“You could always bring him over so I can babysit,” Tory offered. Kit looked at her, surprised again but grateful.

“Thanks kiddo. Now tell me, what’s been going on with you?”

* * *

 

Tory was in bed, watching an episode of Bones and feasting on a carton of cookies and cream ice cream, when Chance arrived. He flew into the room, slamming the door open and ripping off his tie. Tory watched him warily, pausing her show and beside her, Coop lifted his head.

“Who ticked you off?”

“We just lost a multi-million dollar contract because some idiot didn-”

Silence reigned for a moment as Chance suddenly stopped before the dresser, picking something up.

“Where'd you get this?” he turned around, his face as white as a sheet. It was as if he’d seen a ghost. He was holding up the picture Tory had brought from Whitney and Kit’s of the Morris Island pack pre-virus.

“I went home today and Whitney gave it to me,” Tory responded, getting up from bed with the carton of ice cream in hand.

“You went to Morris Island today?”

Chance’s voice had become a whisper and his eyes seem to turn inward, seeing something Tory couldn't see.

“Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Tory brushed past him on the way to the bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush and stepping back out to catch his response. He grabbed her wrist.

“I haven't… But maybe you have,” Chance whispered, eyes seeming to search her face. Tory ripped her wrist from his hold, cradling it to her chest, glaring at him.

“Are you high on something?”

Chance had taken to using recreational drugs to relieve “stress” while on business trips but lately, he was using them outside of business trips and it was making him a neurotic, unstable mess. It reminded her of the way he’d been after the fiasco with Katherine Heaton’s body when he was at the ward (which of course made her feel guilty).

He stared at her a while longer and then turned away, locking himself in the bathroom. Tory huffed a frustrated sigh and moved to the window. Outside, the sun had set and dusk had turned the streets a dark blue. At the end of the street, a street light fizzled and for a moment, Tory could have sworn she saw someone standing there.

Shaking off the chills that ran through her body, Tory padded down the hall in search of one of the guest bathrooms. Once again the halls were dark, only illuminated by the light of the streetlamps outside. She couldn't fathom how Chance had ever grown up here.

On the exterior, the house was elegant and beautiful. The kind of house people look at and think they want to have someday once they're rich and famous. But it was different now, living here. There was a coldness in this home, no personality which was ironic since everywhere she looked, the history of its inhabitants and their adventures lingered. She thought of Kit and Whitney with Jackson. Tory couldn't imagine raising a child here, not that she’d given any thought to children yet.

She reached the guest bathroom, brushed her teeth and hurried back down the dark hall to the room. She shut the door and slid into bed besides Chance, who turned to her.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to grab you. I don't know what came over me,” he whispered, the smell of spearmint toothpaste hitting her. He grabbed her wrist, much gentler this time, caressing the skin there with the tips of his fingers. He kissed the pads of her fingers, dark brown eyes fixed on hers. Tory smiled, her eyes flickering over his face. Even in the moonlit darkness, she could see every little detail on his face from the flecks of lighter brown in his eyes to the chiseled jaw and high cheekbones.

Tory cupped his face, her fingers brushing over the scratchy stubble growing there and kissed him softly, overcome by a wave of affection. His lips were soft and plush and the kiss was soft at first, just the gentle press of lips. He ran a hand down her back, dragging her towards him until they were flush against each other. Angling her mouth, he opened the kiss, feeding it fire until they were both panting. Kissing him was all fire and heat and hunger… But that's all it was. Unbidden, the thought of another kiss came to her mind, one so very long she was surprised she remembered. But then again, she could never forget that moment.

Tory pulled away, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat and blinking away the burning sensation in her eyes. Chance followed, seeking her lips again. Tory put a hand on his chest, shoving lightly.

“Not tonight,” she said, voice wavering a bit. She cleared her throat and continued. “I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired these days,” Chance accused, irritated. Tory felt her chest warm with fury. Not wanting to say something she’d regret, she turned over. She heard Chance get up from the bed.

“I’m going out.”

She let him go without a word.

In her mind, the memory lingers. A kiss on a boat long ago, under the starry skies.

* * *

 

She’s sitting on the hood of her car, tapping out a business email and wolfing down her sandwich. She’s been waiting for her spare tire to arrive for over 20 minutes. Normally, she could have changed the tire herself but her spare had been taken by Ella a few weeks ago when she’d blown a tire and Tory had never replaced it.  

Tory was about to call the shop again when  a familiar car rolled up beside her. He stepped out and Tory’s breath caught in her throat.

She hadn't seen him in almost a year since he’d headed back to the army after a brief R&R in December.

“Ben,” she choked out.

The next 20 minutes of her life were, beyond any shadow of doubt, the most unnerving of her life. While in no way strangers, Tory’s relationship with Chance had put a strain on her relationship with Ben and while it wasn't much of an issue while he was overseas, whenever he came home, it was awkward to say the least. All she wanted to do was hug him and catch up but the lines between them had long blurred, making it difficult to understand what was acceptable and what was not.

She shifted uncomfortably, heels dragging the gravel underneath around. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat.

“When did you get back? You didn’t call,” Tory hesitated and taking a deep breath, continued ahead.

“How have you been? It's been a long time since I last saw you,” she said shyly, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. Dark brown eyes glanced up at her, pinning her where she stood, mesmerizing her with the maelstrom of emotions in them.

“I'm fine. I got back late last night from Mount Pleasant. How are you?”

Ben hadn't changed much from when she’d last seen him. He still had the same warm, inviting coppery skin and though the regulation cut he now sported wasn't anything new, Tory still missed his long hair. His style in clothes seemed to have expanded to include flannel shirts, which looked great on him, and he even seemed a bit taller too. All in all, Ben was still Ben.

“I'm good… I missed you,” she added quietly, biting at the inside of her cheek nervously, refusing to look away from his eyes. He stared at her a bit longer before looking back down at the tire and giving the wrench a final turn. Tory felt her heart sink.

He stood up, wiping his hands on an old rag and turning back to the truck. For some reason, Ben actually worked some of his R&R days at the local mechanics shop. No one had ever really questioned it, just chalking it up to Ben doing what he loved but now that he’d fulfilled his 8-year requirement to the army, she wondered if he was going to settle there.

“Wait. How much do I owe you?”

He looked back at her, dark eyes smoldering with some unknown emotion.

“Consider it on the house… I- I missed you too, Tor,” he murmured, lips quirking into a lopsided smirk. Tory couldn't help it. She moved forward and before she knew it, she was in his arms, hugging him. He smelled the way he always did, something that struck Tory as earthy and masculine. He stood still for a moment, arms held out awkwardly as if afraid to touch her before finally, he hugged her back. Feeling those arms slide around her loosened something in Tory’s chest that she hadn't been aware of until then. Everytime he came back, it always felt like the final puzzle piece slotting into place.

Despite the heat outside, Tory shuddered. She stepped back, willing herself away from the temptation of that embrace. She smiled at him and hearing the ringing of her phone, mouthed a goodbye, retreating into the air conditioned cabin of her car.

In the rear-view mirror, she could see how he looked after the car for a while before turning away and Tory didn't know whether to feel ashamed that she enjoyed the attention or joyful that she still had it. She was a horrible person. Still… she couldn't help thinking ‘what if’. It was the question everyone had asked themselves at one point. She wondered what her life would be like right now if she’d chosen differently all those years ago. What if she’d chosen Ben?

* * *

 

These heels had been designed to torture Tory. She was certain of it. She was headed home after a long day at the office, having met with a representative from a company hoping to merge with Candela. She pressed the button for the elevator, rubbing at the back of her neck.

She honestly didn’t know why she’d let Chance talk her into an administrative position. A chime signaled the arrival of the elevator and with a whoosh of air, the elevator doors slid open. Inside, it was empty save for one little old lady hunched in the corner.

The lady looked up, gray eyes smiling up at her kindly. Tory smiled, taking in the green wooly coat with the star pin and the black saggy pants. The faint smell of lavender permeated the air.

“Lovely day today, isn't it?” the woman asked, her chin quivering as she spoke.

“Yes. Too bad I spent it in the office,” Tory mused, quirking a smile at the lady. The old lady looked at her strangely, almost knowingly.

“Makes you think what life could have been, doesn’t it?” she mumbled.

Tory startled, blinking at her reflection in the silvery surface of the elevator. Her thoughts turned to Ben and in her mind’s eye, she saw him standing before her at 16 with the most heartbreaking look on his face. Her heart twisted.

“Yeah, it does,” Tory trailed off, unable to find the words.

The doors slid open to the lobby and the old lady slipped past her, murmuring a passing remark. Tory made her way to the parking lot in a daze.

When Tory arrived at the manor, she immediately headed for her room. Walking into the closet, Tory moved aside a pile of old jeans and workout clothes, grabbing the box hidden behind them. Taking the box back to bed, she opened it, staring at the contents inside. Her mother’s eyes stared back at her.

Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Tory moved the pictures aside, shifting aside trinkets and knick knacks from years past. There, tucked into a corner, still as bright and cold as the day he gave them to her, were the dog tags. _His_ dog tags.

Outside, the sky was a woven blanket of colors; reds mixing into orange and gold, purples fading into blues and pinks. The colors faded away as the memory came to her.

_Shelton stepped back, tears in his eyes as he turned away from Ben. Tory watched him sadly, catching sight of Hi wiping back tears off to the side. This is it, she thinks. The day we finally stop being Virals._

_Of course, they had long lost their powers but up until that moment, they had all remained together in Charleston. But now Ben was leaving, being deployed overseas and it would be months until they’d all be together again._

_Tory lunged at him, feeling herself get teary-eyed. Ben hugged her to him firmly, placing a lingering kiss where her hairline began. In her chest, her heart beats along to the words that loop over and over in her head._

**_Don't go. Don't go. Don't go._ **

_“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. She could feel him swallow._

_Pulling back, he took her hand and dropped something cold and metallic into it. Tory knew what it was before she even looked down._

_“I want you to have those,” Ben said. Tory could feel something inside her break. She had promised herself long ago to never hurt Ben like she had so long ago but in that moment, what she did felt right._

_Tory reached up and pulled Ben to her, kissing him fiercely and pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss. When she pulls away, Ben’s eyes are still closed, face twisted into an expression of anguish._

_“Go be a hero,” she says to him, stepping back to join Shelton and Hi, ignoring the looks Tom and Myra send her._

_Ben picks up his bags, eyes sweeping over them; his family, biological and spiritual. He turns away, crosses the street and steps into the station._

_Tory looks down at the object in her hand. Dog tags. How fitting, she thinks._

Tory startles out the memory as Coop jumps up on the bed beside her. She traps the wolf dog against her, sliding lower into bed, the tags digging into her chest as she holds them against her heart. Tory lets herself succumb to the sweet temptation of sleep, the tags in her hand and Coop’s warmth a comforting presence.

* * *

 

Tory wakes to warmth, the feeling of being safe and cherished. She can feel the slide of cotton against her bare skin and the rigid line of a warm body pressed up against her. Tory scrunched up her nose. Coop didn’t have soft warm skin.

Tory’s eyes flew open, immediately taking in the unfamiliar white walls and the bright, airy ambiance. Her tongue felt like rasping paper, the rest of her mouth a cotton ball, quenched for thirst. She twists and her eyes settle on the body next to her and in that moment, she became distinctly aware of every inch of skin her own pressed against. She reached out with a trembling hand and curled a finger around the glossy strand of hair. Oh my god. He was real.

Tory scrambled to sit up, flinging away the arm that had settled over her waist and holding the blanket up to her chest. A dark brown eye fluttered opened and peered up at her.

“Oh my god. What did I do?” Tory moaned, hiding her face in her hands and flopping back onto the mattress. Ben chuckled lowly, turning over onto his back and tucking his arm under his head.

“Me, apparently,” he mumbled, snickering to himself. Tory felt her face redden 75 different shades and reaching out with one pale hand, she smacked him on the arm. Tory peeked at him through her fingers and found him looking back at her with sleepy half-lidded eyes and the fondest little smile. She never had been able to find the right defense against his smiles. They were so rare and disarming.  

Oh god. She was lying here in his bed after sleeping with him. Sleeping with Ben, one of her oldest and best friends, her pack. That wasn't even touching upon the fact that she was engaged to someone else. Still…

“What am I doing here?” she mumbled, more to herself than him.

Ben looked at her strangely and opened his mouth to speak when the phone rang. Ben reached out and grabbed the phone off the dresser. While he spoke on the phone, Tory got out of bed and walked around the room, blanket wrapped tightly around her body. She stopped at the dresser and looked at herself in the mirror. Somehow, Tory looked… fuller. Her face was rounder, her body curvier. Even her hair, cut layered with bangs, was different. Now Tory definitely knew something was wrong. Someone couldn't gain weight overnight. Tory ran her fingers over the bottles of fragrances and cologne on the dresser, mixed in together. Some of those were women’s perfumes. Did… did Ben have a girlfriend? Tory shook her head. That made no sense. Ben would never cheat. _Neither would I._

She looked down at her ring finger, startled to find a wedding ring instead of the engagement ring Chance had given her. It was beautiful to say the least yet simple, just the way she liked it. Her eyes landed on the picture sitting on the dresser. It resembled one Tory had seen many times of Whitney and Kit on the beach at Morris Island instead it wasn’t Whitney and Kit in the photograph, it was Ben and Tory.

Tory picked it up, fingers trailing over the joyful expressions. She didn’t remember this, this picture shouldn’t exist. Behind her, Ben finished his conversation and stood from the bed, the blanket falling away to reveal a delectable stretch of coppery brown skin, only interrupted by boxers. He moved around the bed, reaching for Tory. She took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked his chin on her shoulder. The smell of spice.

“I have to go into work. The Chief called, there's been an accident,” he explained, looking at her reflection in the mirror with soft eyes. He reached up and turned her head toward him, kissing her slowly, thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Tory’s head swam, lips opening under his as he deepened the kiss. Suddenly, he stepped back, leaving Tory dazed.

“Remember to pick Grayson up at your dad’s,” he murmured, brushing a quick kiss on her forehead as he left the room. She stood there for a moment, fingers brushing her lips and then-

“Wait. What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by my absolute favorite Drarry fic Turn. This story will hold a lot of my theories and head-canons concerning the Terminal ending. Like always, feel free to send me a message here or on my Virals blog themorrisislandpack. Hope you guys enjoy.


	2. A Taste of What If

_Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_

_I doubted if I should ever come back._

_I shall be telling this with a sigh,_

_Somewhere ages and ages hence._

_-Robert Frost, "The Road Not Taken"_  

Now, Tory definitely knew this wasn't real. She didn't have children. Not with Ben. Not with Chance, not with anybody. She felt as if she had just stepped into someone else's life, someone who was her but wasn't.

Tory waited until she heard Ben leave the house before springing into action. She rooted through the suspiciously half empty drawers, finding what she supposed to be her own underwear. Opening the door to what she assumed was the closet, Tory was startled to find a lot of unopened boxes labeled innocuously as "books" and "Tory's clothes". Leaving the boxes alone, Tory changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt she found folded on one of the shelves. The jeans fit her but she suspected the shirt was Ben's judging by the way the sleeves swallowed her arms. She rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and padded out of the room, curiosity getting the best of her.

Down the hallway, she found a bathroom and another bedroom. The bedroom was clearly a child's bedroom and perhaps the one room in the house most organized, at least from what Tory had seen. The walls were painted a dark navy blue, a twin bed with rocketship covers pushed up against the wall, toys and books organized along the shelves that lined the walls. In one corner of the room, she found Coop's doggy bed and all his toys. Her heart unclenched at the sight of it.

Downstairs, she found a spacious living room, more boxes stacked along the wall, and the kitchen which overlooked the backyard. She picked up a picture frame from the couch side-table, smiling when she recognized Shelton and Hi beside them.

"Are you enjoying your sneak peek?"

Tory whirled, almost dropping the frame. Standing behind her, was the old lady from the elevator.

"You! What did you do to me?" Tory demanded.

The old lady chuckled, gray eyes shining with mirth.

"I'm giving you a glimpse of what could have been, dear child. After all, isn't that what you wanted? To know what life would have been like if you'd chosen Ben? And please, call me Karasi."

The old lady looked at her coyly, obviously finding the situation amusing. Tory had spent enough time living the impossible to know that there were some things out there, inexplicable things, that couldn't be reasoned with. She accepted the answer lightly.

"What about my life? If I'm here, where am I in my world?"

Tory's voice trembled, the fear embedding itself in her very bones.

"You are dreaming, dear child. Like all dreams, this is simply a doorway into another dimension," Karasi explained, peering into one of opened boxes and rummaging through. Tory stared at her in disbelief.

"I have a son. I have a son and I'm married to someone who isn't the person I'm engaged to in my world. Yeah, okay. Nothing to freak out about here," Tory babbled, trying to calm the rising panic she felt.

"Very few people ever get to see what could have been. This is a gift you have been given. Like your mutated genes. Do not take this lately, Victoria Brennan," Karasi replied sagely, looking at Tory seriously. Tory sucked in a deep breath, resigning herself to living in this world for the time being.

"When will I be able to go home?" Tory asked.

"When you've learned what you must."

With that cryptic reply, Karasi disappeared.

"Wait! Blargh."

Tory set the frame back on the table, sitting down on the couch. Now that things had somewhat been explained and her fear of going insane had abated, Tory found herself actually looking forward to learning more about this world. She thought about what Ben had told her, picking up Grayson at her dad's.

Truthfully, Tory hadn't thought about having children yet. She, like Chance, spent a lot of time at the office and lately, they'd been snapping at each other more often.

But this Tory was married to Ben.

Tory made a split decision then. She rooted around the house until she found her keys and her phone. Slipping on a pair of sneakers, she stepped out of the house and got in the car. She sat in the car for a moment, staring at her hands on the wheel or more specifically, the ring on her finger. This wasn't her life but she might as well try to learn from it as Karasi had suggested.

* * *

Driving towards Morris, Tory discovered that her house was practically on the bay and somehow that fact made her feel a bit better about everything. She'd promised herself long ago that no matter where she'd end up in life, it would be by the sea and in this world, she had.

Charleston here wasn't much different from Charleston back home. You know, aside from the fact that here she was married to Ben and they had a son.

Tory drove past the long bridge that connected Morris to the mainland, keeping an eye out on anything different. All across the bay, boats bobbed in the water, sending ripples across the surface. She drove past the sandy dunes of the beachfront and the green foliage of the forestry. She parked in front of the house and stepped out the car, feeling strange about being here, knowing all the things that were already different.

The complex loomed before her, looking as it always had. She stood in front of the door, hand outstretched to knock. What would be different inside? Breathing a sigh, she knocked on the door.

She stood there for a good minute before the door was yanked open abruptly. A haggard-looking woman stared at her from the other side. Tory blinked in surprise, taking in the dark curly hair, sun-kissed skin and hazel eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to peer over the woman's shoulders. The woman leaned back into her line of vision, a weary smile on her face.

"Very funny, Tory. Your father and Grayson are out back with Cooper," she replied, moving aside to let Tory in. Tory stepped inside, watching the woman warily from the corner of her eye. She followed her out back, looking around the house curiously. Whitney was nowhere to be found, in fact none of the things that usually screamed "WHITNEY" were around. The stylish lamps, the colorful throw pillows. They were all gone... maybe she'd just decided to redecorate.

Out back, Kit was throwing a ball for Coop to chase. She couldn't see Grayson at first, half-hidden behind Kit as he was but then Kit stepped forward to get the ball from Coop and Tory saw him. He was so small, Tory thought, he couldn't possibly be any older than 3 years old.

Dressed in a Superman shirt with jeans, Grayson was the perfect mixture of her and Ben. Even from here, Tory could see the smattering of freckles on his face, her green eyes, Ben's dark hair and darker complexion. She watched him with Kit for a while, his hands flying in the air, Kit's hands seemingly answering back.

Tory made a noise in the back of her throat, recognizing the signs. In that moment, Grayson turned his head and saw her. His whole face light up, shallow dimples appearing on either side of his smile. Tory barely had time to realize that he had Ben's smile before Grayson launched himself at her legs, hugging them tightly before looking up at her with familiar green eyes and chubby cheeks.

"Hi mommy," he said quietly, pursing his lips in a way that made him look like a chipmunk with food stuffed in it's mouth. Tory gasped quietly, the reality of it hitting her. She was a mother. She was responsible for this tiny child clinging to her. She didn't know what to say, how to interact with him if her suspicion was right. She settled for gently raking a hand through the soft dark locks, her fingers catching on the listening device curled around his ear. Her heart sunk.

"Did you have fun with grandpa?" she asked softly, finding it strange to regard Kit as a grandfather. Grayson nodded his head against her legs, taking his thumb in his mouth. Tory wrinkled her nose at the bad habit, instinctively reaching down to pull his hand away.

"Don't suck your thumb, baby. You don't know what kind of germs you have on your hands," Tory crouched down, smoothing her hand down his hair and down his chubby cheeks. Catching herself, she pulled away, giving him her hand to hold.

Kit looked a lot older, hair beginning to grey at the temples, the hunched posture taking away years. He seemed almost miserable, barely covering it up with a wan smile.

"Hey kiddo," he sighed tiredly, getting up from where he was sitting on the ground. Coop came running up to Tory, stopping before her and fixing her with ice cold blue eyes. Tongue lolling and tail wagging, he looked the same he did in her own world. Grayson reached out a tiny hand to pet Coop and for a moment, Tory was struck with the fear that Coop would bite him. Coop wasn't a dog after all, he was part wolf too. But all Coop did was nuzzle Grayson's hand and lick the palm of it. Tory breathed in relief. Of course, Coop would never hurt Grayson.

"Hi dad. Where's Whitney and Jackson?"

Kit made some strangled noise at the back of his throat, shutting his eyes as if in pain. The woman behind Tory huffed indignantly and when Tory looked back at her, she was looking back at her coldly.

Feeling a bit as if she'd stepped on a landmine, Tory gathered Grayson up in her arms and turned to go with Coop at her heels.

"Who's Jackson?" she heard Kit ask and that's when Tory knew. Jackson didn't exist in this universe. And Whitney… Where was Whitney?

"No one… just," Tory trailed off, retreating back into the house. She practically ran past the Whitney-less living room and only when she was back in the car, having buckled Grayson in the back, did she release the breath she'd been holding.

On the drive home, Tory decided to get some information from someone who actually lived in this world. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw Coop sprawled across the backseat, head in Grayson's lap where the little boy was playing with a DS. Hesitating, Tory wondered if Grayson needed to read lips or if the listening device helped him hear without that provision.

"Grayson, who was that woman at grandpa's house?" Tory asked, voice casual.

Grayson looked up at her, green eyes meeting her own in the mirror.

"Grandma Audrey."

Tory made a noise at the back of her throat.

"Do you know where grandma Whitney is?"

"I don't have a grandma Whitney."

Grayson was looking at her strangely. Tory decided to drop the matter.

"What do you want for dinner?"

That night, Tory ordered out pizza at Grayson's request and they were sitting on the couch watching Rise of the Guardians, Coop sprawled out on the carpet before them, when Ben walked in the door. Tory looked over the top of the couch, catching a glimpse of Ben in his officer's uniform.

She'd already guessed that he was a cop, piecing together the conversation on the phone this morning, but seeing him in his officer's uniform was a whole new ballgame. Tory couldn't help but feel just a little envious of her doppelganger from this world.

She thought of Kit then and remembered that not all things in this universe were better.

Ben leaned over the back of the couch, dropping a kiss on Grayson's head and then Tory's. He plopped down next to Tory, stealing a slice of pizza from the box. Grayson scrambled over Tory's lap, sharp knees and elbows digging into her thigh, hugging Ben tightly.

"Hey buddy, calm down. You're gonna make me drop my pizza," Ben laughed and Tory was struck once again by just how lovely Ben's laugh was.

She watched as Grayson signed Ben something excitedly, fingers shaping words Tory didn't know. Ben responded in kind, signing with his free hand, eyes flickering over to Tory. Grayson seemed satisfied with his response, settling back against Ben to watch the movie.

Something clicked in the back of her head and a small nugget of information rose to the forefront of her thoughts. Wolf pups were born deaf and blind and only gained their sight and hearing after a few weeks. Watching them both, Tory wondered.

She had never considered how the virus would affect their children. She'd been 14 when they'd first been infected, kids hadn't even been a topic in the realm of possibility at that time and after they'd lost their powers, it just wasn't something to worry about. She looked at Ben. Had their wolf-enhanced DNA caused Grayson's loss of hearing?

Tory frowned. The virus wasn't in their genetic sequence anymore. At least it wasn't supposed to.

"Tory," Ben called. Tory shook herself out of her reverie. She looked over, finding Ben watching her carefully and Grayson busy with the movie.

"Are you okay? You seem a little out of it today," he frowned at her, coal black eyebrows stitching together in concern.

"I'm fine. Just lost in my thoughts," Tory responded, waving it off with a hand. Ben narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. When the movie was finished, they put in another movie because apparently giving Grayson soda before bed was a bad idea and only made him less likely to go to sleep. Tory popped in The Lion King.

She doesn't know when it happens but by the end of the movie, Grayson is asleep and Tory has folded herself in beside Ben, completely ignoring the empty length of couch. They remained on the couch, watching the main screen, silently lost in their own thoughts. Tory craned her neck up to look at Ben and found him looking down at Grayson, eyes soft and full of fondness.

She looked down to where Grayson was curled up in Ben's lap asleep, sucking on his thumb. Tory couldn't even bring herself to take his thumb out. She ducked her head back down, resting it against Ben's shoulder, trying to calm the beating of her heart.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this warm and content.

* * *

Tory loves her job.

That morning, Ben had gotten a call about a crime scene and he had turned to Tory and told her that they would need her at the scene. In this world, Tory worked part-time for the forensic division of the Charleston PD (she found it amusing that they both worked for the Charleston PD when they'd spent so much time as teenagers breaking the law).

She's at the scene, examining the body. Male. Early 20's. About 5'11. The right side of the body had a wide cut laceration, blood staining the cement floor a vivid red. She estimates he'd been dead about 5 hours judging by the purpling of the skin and the rigor mortis setting in. She's examining her surroundings, trying to calculate where the perpetrator came from and fled when Ben comes up to her. He's dressed in his officer's uniform while Tory's in regular civilian clothes.

"Could you get anything off the body?" he asks, touching his nose in some conspicuous way. Tory furrows her brows at him, confused as to what he means when it hits her.

_It can't be… Was it possible?_

Immediately, Tory reaches out with her mind, searching for that golden pulse of power at the back of her head. There, thrumming gently at the back of her mind like it'd always been before the men in black came, was her power... except it wasn't golden anymore. It was an electric blue like crackling electricity.

They'd mutated.

But… Tory had searched for any sign of the Parvovirus genome and she'd never found them. Was her presence in this world activating them? She wanted to turn to Ben and demand answers. Why they still existed, how they'd mutated, how their powers had grown but the Tory from this world wouldn't have been surprised at the continued existence of her powers.

Ben touched her arm gently and Tory jumped, forgetting what she'd been doing. He was looking at her expectantly. She lowered her head so as to hide her eyes and felt the familiar SNUP! of her powers activating.

The first smell to hit her was the overwhelming coppery smell of blood but underlying that, she could smell the residual bittersweet tang of paranoia. She listened to her surroundings, Ben's heartbeat strong and steady at her side. Cops arguing, civilians roaming outside the yellow tape. Further away, she could hear cars beeping and zooming down the streets and people in their apartments.

Almost imperceptibly, Tory heard the unmistakeable sound of a gun loading. She cocked her head and turned, electric blue eyes scanning the buildings to the west. She found the guy on the 4th floor balcony of a red brick building. For a moment, she thought the gun was pointed at her but then she saw the red dot on Ben's shoulder and her first instinct was to shove him out of the way. They hit the ground at the same time the bullet ricocheted off the floor.

Ben looked up at her in shock, the impact leaving him breathless. Tory scrambled off him as officers ran past her to the building where the gunman had been. She helped Ben up, fingers poking around at his right shoulder to see if the bullet had grazed.

Ben hissed as Tory prodded. She pulled her fingers away, finding them coated in blood.

The search for the gunman was a waste of time. They were gone long before the officers had even reached the balcony they'd fired from, leaving nothing but an ominous message written in blood on the walls of the empty apartment.

_Long Live Scylla_

The blood matched that of the victim's, who was more likely than not bait to lure in the cops.

Back at the precinct, Tory watched the paramedic swipe the alcohol pad over Ben's shoulder, feeling particularly vengeful in that moment. She was going to get to the end of this case before she left, she swore it. Ben grunted in pain, the muscles in his bicep rippling as he shifted.

"You need to be more careful," Tory scolded, glaring at him from where she stood, arms crossed over her chest. Ben shot her an unamused look, as if saying it wasn't his fault someone tried to shoot him. And it wasn't his fault but Tory was angry and worried.

She heard someone calling her name and when she turned, she saw the last person she'd ever imagined running towards them. Jason Taylor. Jason came to a stop beside Tory, clapping her on the shoulder and nodding at Ben.

"Sorry I'm late. Got held up in traffic," Jason wheezed, waving a hand in the air. Ben scowled at him but the expression didn't hold any heat, not like it had when they were younger. Tory breathed through her nose heavily, dreading what would come next. She was not in the mood to separate squabbling children.

"Sometimes I think you want me to get killed just so you can get a new partner, Taylor," Ben retorted, shrugging back his shirt over the bandaged shoulder.

"What? Nah. You know I love ya, Blue. Grumpy bastard you may be," Jason grinned. Ben rolled his eyes.

Tory's eyebrows hiked into her hairline. She couldn't believe her eyes. Ben Blue and Jason Taylor. Getting along. This was a sign of the coming apocalypse. What next? Shelton and Hi were going to show up in hula skirts? Actually, Tory wouldn't put that past Hi.

She trailed behind them, watching in disbelief as Ben and Jason bickered light-heartedly.

"How's the little man? Haven't seen him in a while," Jason asked, turning back to look at Tory.

"He's fine," Tory and Ben replied in unison and Jason groaned.

"You guys are so disgustingly married, it's not even funny anymore. How Shelton and Hi put up with you two for so long is a mystery."

Ben cuffed Jason on the back of the end and let him go on ahead to their desk. He grabbed Tory's hand, looking down at her solemnly.

"Hey. You okay?" he asked, entwining their fingers together. Tory looked up at him, perplexed.

"I should be asking you that," she quirked a smile. For some reason, she thought of that day in the forest after she'd gotten Ella out of that well. Him telling her he wasn't the hero type. But he was and now he had the badge to prove it.

They were smack dab in the middle of the department, where everyone could see them but Tory didn't care. Gripping his chin, Tory angled his face down and kissed his cheek chastely.

Pulling back, she looked into his eyes.

"Told you, you were a hero," she whispered. He looked dazed for a moment, eyes closed in seeming bliss. Then his eyes opened and recognition lit up.

"Really? You waited 14 years to say 'I told you so'?"

He looked at her, amused by this turn of events.

"I do like being right," Tory grinned and with a wink, she walked away aware of all the eyes on her including Ben's.

* * *

After Tory had finished her day at the lab, working in tandem with the medical examiners to examine the body, Tory headed home. She set the file she'd brought home on the counter and grabbed a snack from the kitchen, flopping on the couch.

Apparently, the graffiti left behind at the crime scene and the MO of the victim's death was linked to a group called Scylla. The name was the first clue of the group's intentions. In Greek mythology, Scylla was the monster opposite Charybdis on the Strait of Messina, she picked sailors off their ships and ate them. All of the previous victims had been missing their livers and it was suspected that the livers were being eaten. Which was just… disturbing. But this had been the first time the group had actually stuck around for the cops to arrive. Tory was certain it wasn't a coincidence.

Coop came running into the living room, tail wagging excitedly when he caught sight of Tory. Or more specifically, her food. Tory smiled, stretching a hand out to pet him.

"At least you're still the same, dog face," Tory mumbled under her breath. He cocked his head at her, looking at her with wide blue grey eyes. Tory couldn't believe how much he'd grown. She still thought of him as the wolf pup she'd rescued so long ago on Loggerhead. Keeping a hand on his head, Tory decided to test out her powers again.

In her mind's eye, she found the shining blue ball of energy that represented her powers. She searched with her mind, finding Coop before her. Surprisingly, when she cast out her mind, she found 6 other signatures. There was one to the East, one to the North, two to the West and two were a mere mile or so away. There were two that felt different in the way that Chance's signature felt different back when the Trinity had emerged. Those signatures must have been Ella and Chance. The other three were Ben, Hi and Shelton but she didn't know who that last signature was. Unless… it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Grayson had the parvovirus genome. The parvovirus had altered their very DNA and Grayson was this world's Tory and Ben's biological son.

How would the virus have affected Grayson, if he was indeed born a Viral? Was that the source of his disability? Did he have a certain sense that was heightened above all else like the Morris Island pack had? Was it terminal for him as it had been for them? Or had the evolution of the virus exempted him from that fate?

Tory's musings were interrupted when the front door opened and in came Ben and Grayson.

"Why aren't you dressed?" Ben asked, walking into the kitchen to set down some bags. She set her snack aside as Grayson launched himself into her arms.

"Dressed for what?" Tory called, arms full of a squirming little boy. Grayson whispered in her ear, small hands warm against her skin.

"We're gonna go see Uncle Hi and Uncle Shelton?" Tory asked and Grayson nodded his head, clambering off her lap and running up the stairs with Coop at his heels.

"Don't run on the stairs! You're gonna hurt yourself," Ben yelled after him. His only response was the sound of footsteps overhead. Ben sighed and Tory couldn't help but laugh. Ben Blue, overprotective father.

Ben threw himself on the couch, hissing in pain when he jarred his shoulder. Tory made a face at him.

"Are we really going to go see Shelton and Hi?"

Ben looked up from where he was checking his bandage, dark brown eyes narrowed.

"We always have dinner with them on Fridays," Ben eyed her warily. _Shit._ Tory scrambled for an excuse.

"Oh. I forgot today was Friday," Tory said weakly, smiling unconvincingly.

As she showered, she wondered how Shelton and Hi had changed. Were they married too? Did they have kids of their own?

She stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself and moving toward the closet. She didn't know where they were going but she ended up choosing a plain burgundy dress she found at the bottom of one of the boxes. She really should try to unpack some of them.

She twisted her hair, pinning it up with a jeweled hairclip. Down the hall, she could hear Grayson giggling and Ben's voice. She headed down the hall barefoot, coming to a stop at the doorway of the bathroom. Grayson was in the bathtub, surrounded by foamy white bubbles, Ben sitting beside the tub, piling bubbles on Grayson's head and telling him the story of the time Hi sat on an anthill.

She leaned against the doorway, watching them together. Her heartbeat was a dull ache in her chest. She watched as Ben tilted Grayson's head back and washed the bubbles out of his hair, making sure they don't get in his eyes. He drained the bathtub of water, grabbing a towel and wrapping Grayson up like a giant curly-haired burrito. Tossing him over his shoulders, Ben turned. Over his shoulder, Grayson was giggling almost hysterically, thick black hair dangling and dripping on the floor.

"Do you want this little burrito?" Ben asks, indicating Grayson. Tory smiles, stepping forward.

"Looks mighty tasty," Tory sing-songs, crouching to meet Grayson's eyes. "Come on, let's go find you some clothes and let your dad shower".

Ben set Grayson down and Tory took his hand, chancing one last glance at Ben as she lead Grayson out of the room.

She's looking through his closet when Grayson pipes up in a small voice.

"Momma… how far away is Christmas?"

Tory turns back to him, holding a green button up shirt. She scrubs the towel over his wet hair as she speaks.

"In a few months. Why?"

He looks at her with bright green eyes and dark lashes, the freckles on his skin startlingly noticeable over the tanned skin.

"Because I wanted to ask Santa for a baby," he says it shyly, almost as if he's afraid to ask. Tory's face heats up and she's almost positive her face matches her hair. She lets out a strangled squeak as she thinks about what would need to occur in order for _that_ scenario to happen. She is not doing this. Nope nope nope. Still, she's curious about his reason.

"Why do you want us to have a baby?" Tory asks, willing her face to return to normal.

"'Cause I want someone to play with," he says it so quietly, his voice is almost a whisper. Tory could feel her heart breaking. She remembered wanting a younger sibling as a child. She'd never really had friends until she'd met the boys. It had always been her and her mom.

Grayson was already such a quiet child and without the existence of Jackson in this universe, he didn't seem to have any kids his age to play with. Tory smoothed a hand over his hair.

"Hey, there's no need to cry, okay?" Tory wiped away the tears, feeling particularly protective in that moment. "But it may take Santa a while until he can give you a baby brother or sister, okay?"

Grayson nodded his head and just as Tory was going to stand up, he threw his arms around her neck. She stayed stock still for a moment, her brain fizzing out. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer. Holding him tightly, Tory wished that someway, somehow he could be real. In her world. Just like this. Her heart already ached at the thought of leaving him behind when she returned home. She opened her eyes, raising them upwards and silently thanking Karasi for giving her this.

* * *

Hi dangled the noodles over his mouth with his fork. Beside him, Grayson was struggling to twirl the spaghetti onto the fork until frustration got the best of him and he picked the saucy noodle up with his fingers, copying Hi.

Tory sipped at her wine, making a face at the aftertaste. She'd gotten too used to the non-alcoholic champagne.

"Hi, stop playing with your food," Linda scrunched her nose, giving Hi a face.

"Hey. This is a non-judgment zone, okay? You are my peeps, my elite confederacy of nerds. Peeps don't judge other peeps," Hi wagged a disapproving finger at her. Linda and Tory exchanged a glance, hiding smiles.

Linda, Shelton's girlfriend, was quite pretty; tall, dark brown hair, brown eyes, soft brown skin. She had a bit of an accent, something Middle Eastern but not one Tory could identify. She was a teacher, working at the elementary school nearby. She was actually really sweet and Shelton seemed happy with her. Tory was glad he'd found someone.

Hi had apparently just ended with someone named Laurie which Tory only knew because Ben had asked where she was. As Hi put it, he was a "ladies' man that just couldn't be tied down". He didn't seem too broken up about it but Tory knew that appearances could be deceiving and had resolved on keeping an eye on him.

Hi actually looked more or less the same, his baby fat had become more muscle but he still had that boyish round face which didn't look so boyish anymore with the stubble dusting his cheeks and his spiky haircut. Tory was happy to see that he had retained his strange sense of fashion though, wearing some ridiculous purple velvet jacket.

Shelton, on the other hand, looked like a whole new person. At some point, he'd gotten rid of his glasses, instead preferring to use contacts, which highlighted his eyes and cheekbones more. He'd gone through a growth spurt, making him about Tory's height which was certainly nothing to sneer at. Long gone were the polo shirts and shorts, replaced by smart shirts and pressed slacks which Tory assumed he'd become accustomed to during his time at the tech company he was working at.

Shelton returned, wedging himself beside Linda who smiled brightly up at him. Tory hid a smile behind her glass. _So cute._

"I am surrounded by couples," Hi wailed dramatically, slumping against the red vinyl booth. He turned to Grayson.

"Little man, it's just you and me against the cold, cruel world."

Grayson looked up at his uncle, green eyes bright and shining with mischief.

"Actually it's just you, Uncle Hi. Girls are icky," he quipped, grabbing another noodle from his bowl with his fingers. The table fell silent for a moment and then they were chuckling. Grayson looked confused and Ben just looked amused, smirking into his cup.

"I just got rejected by a three-year old," Hi cried in disbelief, looking at the table in horror. "My fragile ego… I don't know how to take this blow".

"I'm turning four!" Grayson announces to the table.

"Like a man," Tory advises.

Ben chokes on his drink.

* * *

Tory may be just the slightest bit tipsy. She hangs onto Shelton's arm, helping him keep his balance. Up ahead, Linda is walking hand in hand with Grayson and behind them, Ben is pulling a singing Hi along.

"NO matter what they take from meeeee, they won't take away my dignityyy," Hi croons off-key.

"Make it stoppp," Shelton moaned quietly. Tory grinned and when Hi started the next line, she sang along.

"Becauseeee the greatest love of all is happening to meeeee. Yeah Tory! Sing it with me!"

"Traitor," Shelton muttered under his breath, flicking a sidelong glance at Tory. He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "So… I've been meaning to ask you something."

Tory sobered, blinking down at her feet.

"Okay. Ask," she replied. Shelton gave her an inscrutable look, fishing something out of his pockets. Tory's eyes widened at the small box. She looked up at Shelton, mouth gaping.

"Before I can do anything, I have to tell her. About us. Being Virals. I don't want to start a marriage with lies," Shelton said, looking at her expectantly.

Tory looks up ahead to where Linda is steadying Grayson as he pretends the curb is a tightrope, arms stretched out to each side. She glances back at Ben, Hi draped around his shoulder, singing something quietly. He looks up and catches her eye, rolling his eyes at Hi fondly.

"Tor?"

Tory cleared her throat, looking down at the pavement.

"I want you to be happy, Shelton… Do you think she'll understand?" she asks.

"Only one way to find out," his voice is soft and uncertain but when Tory looks over, all she finds is resolve.

When she slides into bed later that night, Ben turns and reaches for her. Tory welcomes the embrace, leaning into the warm comfort. She's thinking about Linda, whether she would accept this crazy new secret life Shelton would drag her into when the thought blindsides her.

 _Why was_ she _so easily accepting_ this _new life?_

She must jolt because beside her, Ben stirs.

"You okay?" he mumbles sleepily, lips soft and warm against the nape of her neck.

"Never been better," Tory replies quietly. And it's the truth.

She had resolved to learning all she could about this world but it seemed she was learning more about herself than anything else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeeee? I promised headcanons and theories and this is just the tip of ice berg, my friends. Isn't Shelton just the cutest? And Grayson ugh cutie. What happened to Whitney though?
> 
> Alright so I have a surprise for you guys! I'm going to write ONE MORE CHAPTER for "From Where The Sun Now Stands". It's gonna give you a bit of an insight to Shelton and Hi's time in the Confederate army. I'm so excited! Hope you guys enjoyed! Until next time.


	3. What Is and What Isn't

_So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,_

_Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time._

_But if thou live, remembered not to be,_

_Die single and thine image dies with thee._

_-William Shakespeare, Sonnet 3_

Tory rubbed her eyes tiredly. She looked down at the files before her, trying to find a connection between the victims. Other than the fact they'd all been targeted by Scylla, there was nothing to be found in common for all four victims. They were all of different nationalities, different religions, ages, genders, occupations. What frustrated her more was the deviation in the latest attack. What did they gain from shooting at the cops? It just didn't make sense. Tory growled lowly, turning to look at the clock.

It was already 5, she'd have to go pick Grayson up soon. _Or maybe it was Ben's day to pick him up,_ she thought absent-mindedly. Spying the non-descript book poking out of her bag, Tory fished it out, opening to the page where she'd left off. Images of hands forming letters stared back up at her. In a matter of mere days, Tory had learned to sign the entire alphabet and some basic gestures. Through sheer willpower if nothing else. Still, just like the case, her progress frustrated her. Her head felt clouded.

The door to the lab opened and Tory swiveled in her chair, shoving the book back into her bag quickly. Ben stepped inside, holding out a coffee cup to Tory.

"Oh my god. I could kiss you," Tory sighed.

She made grabby hands at the cup, moaning in pleasure when she took a sip. She couldn't even blame her college years for her caffeine addiction. Ben chuckled, looking at her over the rim of his cup, all dark lashes and dark eyes.

"You won't get any complaints here," he commented drily, giving her a crooked grin. Tory flushed.

He perched himself at the edge of her desk and looked down at the files on her desk, shifting aside photographs from previous crime scenes. Tory's stomach twisted at the sight of the grisly images.

"I can't find anything in common between the victims. There's no correlation in any of their backgrounds. The only thing they seem to have in common was being targeted by the group," Tory frowned, glaring at the files as if trying to intimidate them into giving her the answer.

"Well, what about the livers?" Ben asked. Tory blinked at him.

"What _about_ the livers? They're gone."

Ben looked at her then, raising a brow.

"What if what the victims had in common was the livers? Did you check if they have any shared history of liver problems?"

"Of course, I checked but I didn't find…" Tory trailed off as something occurred to her.

Cursing, she flung herself off her chair, going to where the medical files of the victims were kept. Stacking them in her arms, she took them back to the table, spreading them. Ben put his cup down, helping her match the files with each victim. She scanned the medical history of all the victims, her mind discarding theories and possibilities as she went off. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ben watching her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"How did I miss this?" she murmured to herself. Snatching a near-by post it, she scribbled something quickly and posted it to the file. Drawing herself up, she handed the file to him.

"What exactly is hepatitis cirrhosis?," Ben asked.

"Medical term for scarring of the lungs. The victims all had the same qualifying symptoms on their latest checkups but only two were diagnosed out of the four. What concerns me is _how_ the group knew this information. Medical records aren't accessible to the public," Tory emphasized, meeting Ben's eyes.

Ben looked at her grimly.

"So Scylla has an insider at the hospital."

Tory nodded her head, gaze burning holes into the files on her desk. _Gotcha._

She reports her findings to the Chief, who promptly puts in the call to get the records of every hospital employee. They can't do anything till the files get in so in the end, they wait till the shift ends and head home separately, Ben going to pick up Grayson.

Tory is done with dinner by the time the boys come home, having tried out one of the recipes Whitney had taught her long ago. They never came out as good as Whitney made them, which irked Tory to no end, but they were still pretty tasty. The first time Whitney had offered to teach her was shortly after the wedding. She remembered feeling angry because her mom should have taught her those things but that wasn't Whitney's fault. It was actually one of the only activities they could do together without clashing, even after all these years.

Tory frowned, looking down at the plates in her hand. A fierce ache clenched her heart. She missed Whitney and Jackson and Kit, her Kit, the one who was happy and young.

She left the food to cool and flopped onto the couch. Looking around the living room, she made a face. They really should have finished unboxing the rest of the things.

The slight pop was the only warning Tory received when Karasi appeared beside her. She jumped in her seat when she noticed her, swallowing the shriek that lodged itself in her throat.

"Stop doing that!" Tory glared. Karasi ignored her, beaming at her knowingly, gray eyes twinkling.

"How are you, my dear child? Are you enjoying your glimpse?"

Tory snorted derisively, melting back into the couch.

"So you mean you're not constantly watching my every move?" she asked drily. Karasi feigned ignorance, standing up and looping around to the other side of the couch.

"Of course not. Wouldn't want to catch an eyeful," Karasi replied, throwing Tory a sly grin over her shoulder. Tory sputtered a protest, turning red.

"Oh hush. It was a joke, you silly child," Karasi waved her hand. Tory remained unamused, watching as Karasi dug a photo album from the depths of one of the boxes.

"I had hoped you would have looked at this much sooner," Karasi continued, handing the album to Tory with wrinkled hands. Tory looked down at it, caressing the leathery surface, too afraid to open it for fear of what she might find. She looked up at Karasi, meeting ancient eyes.

"Is what I'm supposed to learn in here?"

"Mayhaps," Karasi shrugged. Tory looked down at the album and when she looked up again, Karasi had disappeared. Tory was really starting to hate her cryptic visits.

She left the album on the table, promising herself that she would look it over later. Finding the room unbearably stuffy all off a sudden, she opened the door to the backyard, a warm summer breeze greeting her. Stepping out onto the porch, she leaned against the railing and looked out over the neighborhood.

Her breath hitched as she considered the sheer insanity of this world.

This world, that looked so much like the Charleston back home, so similar yet so different. She had a family here, a life of her own and how strange it was to think that and feel nothing but pride. She would have never thought of children in her own world, not now but in this world, it felt natural. Not an obligation or a burden, just… natural. And Ben -

A small warm body crashed into her side and Tory blinked down in bewilderment, finding Grayson clinging to her legs. She hadn't even heard the door. Dismissing her moment of introspection, Tory swung Grayson up onto her hip and pressed a firm kiss onto inky black curls. The ache in her heart gave way to a sense of joy that Tory welcomed. As much as she missed her family back home, she wouldn't trade this experience for the world.

"Did you have fun with Linda, munchkin?" Tory asked, brushing back the hair from his face. Grayson nodded quickly.

"My reading is gooder!" he announced proudly, a little too loud for the proximity. Tory bit her lip to contain the smile. She'd noticed over the past few days that Grayson was significantly behind his age group when it came to his speech which wasn't too unusual with hearing impaired kids.

"Better," she corrected.

"She says if I keeps pratcing, I go to school. I wants to go!"

Tory's eyes flicker to Ben, who is striving for invisibility as he sets the table. She looked back at Grayson, finding him watching her with familiar green eyes. She reached up and tweaked his nose.

"You have to improve your reading and vocabulary then. Now go wash your hands," she replied, setting him down. He nodded, speeding off towards the stairs.

She swipes a hand down Coop's flank as she steps back into the kitchen. Coop paused in gnawing at the remains of the chew toy he had demolished only the day before, yapping at her and pawing at his food bowl.

She sets Coop's food and water bowl out, petting the wolf dog gently as he abandoned the ripped up chew toy and started to eat. He was getting old, she noted sadly, eyeing the silvery white hairs around his snout.

She turned back to the table, leaving Coop to eat. Ben doesn't say anything but it's obvious he wants to. Tory sends him a questioning look, surprised when he just shakes his head and mouths 'later'.

Grayson climbed into his seat, immediately launching off into a story about his discussion of school with Linda.

"... ands I can make friends at school until I gets a baby brother or sister," Grayson finished, stabbing at the potatoes on his plate and lifting the fork to his mouth awkwardly.

Ben coughed harshly, giving Tory a wide-eyed look. Feeling the tips of her ears redden, she ducked her head, taking a particular interest in her food. Grayson frowned at his plate all of a sudden, lips puckering as he thought hard.

"Where do babies come from?"

Tory groaned, palming her face and the kitchen fell silent. Ben's shoulders shook silently and a few moments later, a deep laugh bubbled out of him.

"Way... to open... that can of worms, Tor," Ben wheezed between laughs. Tory smacked her hands down on the table, glaring at him over the top.

"It wasn't me!" she exclaimed. Ben just laughed harder. Tory turned to Grayson, fighting to keep the smile off her face as Ben continued to laugh.

"Ask your father, Grayson."

Ben's laughter cut off abruptly.

* * *

After dinner and the hilarity that was Ben trying to talk his way out of explaining the birds and the bees to Grayson, Tory gave Grayson a bath and tucked him in. She's sitting on the edge of his bed, brushing a thumb over his cheek affectionately when he speaks.

"Momma, you smell sad," he whispers sleepily.

Tory's thumb stills, a sort of deep freeze traveling up her spine.

_You smell sad. Smell. Sad._

Tory sucked in a breath, her mind processing what that statement meant. He had the parvovirus.

"I'm just sad because one day you're going to grow up and you're going to leave me," she lied, voice cracking as she thought that soon enough she would have to leave _him_.

"You get freckles if you lie, momma," Grayson responds quietly, green eyes watching her knowingly.

Pain lances through her heart as she thinks of all the times her mother told her as a child that her freckles would multiply if she lied. She tries to smile but her smile comes out wobbly as her eyes well up with tears.

"You're right, baby. Lying is bad," Tory whispers as she leans down to press a kiss onto his forehead. She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the softness of it under her fingers.

"Close your eyes and go to sleep," she tells him gently. Grayson hesitates and then bringing up one small hand, signs something. The message is simple enough but it fills her heart with warmth. Clumsily, she signs it back.

_I love you too._

She takes the listening device from his ear as he settles into his pillow, one hand reaching for Coop who has already settled at Grayson's side.

Tory smiles, getting up from the bed and turning off the lights. She watched them in the filtered light of the night light. Boy and dog, forever bound. She closes the door behind her, leaving it only the slightest bit cracked.

Heading downstairs, she peers into the kitchen where Ben had been washing dishes. Finding it empty, she glances out into the backyard and catches Ben's dark silhouette sitting on the steps. Opening the door, she steps out into the warm summer night, settling down beside him. They sit there quietly in the darkness, both lost in their own thoughts.

"You could see a lot more of the stars on Morris," Ben comments, taking a swig of the beer in his hand. Tory looks up and finds that it's true. The night sky on Morris was full of stars, so far removed from all the light pollution. She'd spent so many nights looking up at them, admiring their beauty.

"Do you miss it?"

Ben shrugs. He hands her the bottle and she takes it gingerly, sipping at it. She makes a face at the taste and hands it back to him, ignoring the way he huffs a laugh under his breath. They lapse into silence once again.

"We agreed on no pre-school," he blurts suddenly, tone neutral and measured.

Tory hesitates and then nods because she didn't know the true extent of Grayson's abilities. Whatever Ben and her doppelganger had agreed upon, they hadn't done so impulsively. She had to believe that.

"He told me I smelled sad," Tory offers and it's a testament to her belief how quickly Ben turns to look at her. The question hangs unspoken between them. _Are you? Are you sad?_

Tory continues forward, wanting to avoid what she already knew to be true deep down.

"Still… he needs to be around kids his own age. He's lonely, Ben."

He remains silent, looking up at the night sky. Finally, he sighs and turns to face her.

"I'm guessing you have something in mind," he says in a way that makes it sound more question than statement. Tory smiles.

"Ella's still in charge running Peewee soccer, right?"

Ben looks at her incredulously then, arching an eyebrow. He nods thoughtfully and ducks his head to hide the smile on his lips.

"What are you smiling about?" Tory asks, amused by this shift in demeanor.

"Tory Brennan. Soccer mom extraordinaire," he snickers. Tory shoves him sideways onto the porch, scoffing indignantly.

"You're a child."

Ben grins and Tory rolls her eyes. Scooching closer to him, she reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers. He brings up her hand to kiss it and her ring shines as it catches the light of the moon. She can't help but correct him.

"Brennan-Blue."

* * *

"I will kick you off this bed," she threatens sleepily, kicking half-heartedly at Ben's calf.

He hums softly against her the nape of her neck, warm lips skating over the expanse of it. His lips reach the spot just underneath her ear and Tory shivers, eyes squinting into the early morning light. She turns over onto her side, gasping when Ben leans in and slides his fingers into her hair, kissing her hotly, the taste of spearmint on his lips. Her heart is hammering inside her chest as she tenses for a moment before giving in to the temptation.

"Morning," he greets, pressing another searing kiss onto her lips, hands coming to rest at her hips. She groans in response, cupping the back of his neck as he licked into her mouth. Trailing her hand along the curve of his jaw, she brushed her thumb against his bottom lip as they broke apart to catch their breath. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath a puff of minty fresh air against her thumb.

She opened her eyes, chest heaving and heart pounding, taking in the red flush of his cheeks and the swollen puffiness of his lips. She met his eyes, just inches from her own and her heart skipped a beat. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, sighing contentedly when the kisses continued over her jaw and back down her neck. The hand at her hip came up, sliding up the curve of her shoulder and hooking into the strap of her tank top. Her breathing stuttered as he dragged the strap down her arm slowly, pressing kisses onto her bare shoulder and murmuring under his breath.

"One… two… three…"

Tory blinked, her frazzled nerves working to cope with the sensory overload, and then let out a slightly hysterical giggle when she realized what he was doing.

"Are you kissing my freckles?"

Ben hummed in response, coming back up to swallow her laugh in a kiss. She grins into the kiss, pushing at his shoulder until he's lying flat on his back. She presses a finger against the pulsating vein at the base of his throat, laughing when she finds he's just as affected as her. Pulling away, she rests her elbow on his chest, looking down at him.

"You should call in sick," she suggests, voice low and hoarse, the words slipping out before she can even think of what she's suggesting.

"Tempting but I already have the day off," he manages, fingertips running an electrifying path up and down her forearm. Tory is about to ask why when the door to the bedroom opens and Tory is attacked by a small ball of energy.

"Happy 'pendence Day!" Grayson cheers.

The impact leaves Tory breathless and acutely aware of the throbbing warmth against her thigh.

"Grays…" Ben warns.

Grayson scrambles off Tory, looking guilty when Tory sits up.

He signs his apology and Tory can't help but pull him into her arms and pepper kisses onto his face, loving the sound of his laughter. A sleepy Coop padded into the room and jumped onto the bed, making himself at home in the commotion. Ben groaned.

"No no no. Off the bed, mutt. Now," Ben waved. Coop glanced at him and bounded up the length of the bed, planting his ginormous paws on Ben's chest before leaning down and licking a wet stripe up the side of his face.

"Stupid mutt. Tory, I swear I will give him away," Ben sat up, manhandling Coop off the bed. He walked into the bathroom, muttering under his breath, hands cupped over his erection. Tory and Grayson giggled as the door shut behind him.

_Still as moody as ever,_ Tory thought fondly.

* * *

Tory smiled from where she stood, watching Kit and Grayson on the beach searching for seashells.

Everyone had congregated on Morris to celebrate the Fourth of July. Already the sun was setting behind the trees, painting the sky with ribbons of red, purple, pink, orange and yellow. All of Morris and their closest relatives were here, milling around, eating and conversing. Whitney would have loved it. She never had liked the seclusion of Morris.

Shelton and Linda were in conversation with Shelton's parents who seemed to adore Linda, Lorelei particularly. Grayson - and by extension, Coop, who followed the little boy everywhere- had taken to following his grandfather around everywhere. Hi was basking in attention, flitting to and fro like the social butterfly he considered himself to be while Ben was talking to Hi's dad about some of LIRI's new programs. Tory took a sip of her Coke, a bubbly sort of warmth spreading through her body at seeing her family together. Most of them anyways.

Car lights flashed as a new car drove in, parking at the far end near the empty houses. Out stepped three people Tory knew quite well. Jason and a slightly showing Madison made their way into the party, being greeted by their friends, followed by a radiant Ella who spotted Tory instantly.

"Tory!"

Ella practically tackled her into a hug, kissing her cheek.

"I haven't seen you in like a week. Where have you been and why haven't brought me my favorite godson?" Ella pouted, eyebrows knitting together.

"He's your only godson, El," she mused. Ella waved a dismissive hand.

"Semantics. Tell Benjamin him and I will be having words. He can't hog you all to himself."

Ella, like Hi, hadn't seemed to change much save for the haircut she now sported. Instead of her usual long hair, Ella now wore her hair shoulder-length, the length of it framing her face and softening it.

Looping her arm in Tory's, Ella dragged her along, demanding to know everything she'd missed and for a moment, Tory was tempted to tell her the truth.

At one point in the conversation, Ella mentions that Chance is still in Europe and Tory realizes that she hasn't thought of him since she came to this world. Her eyes wander back to Ben, nursing a Coke, dark eyes shining in amusement at something Jason was saying. She tries to dredge up some sort of guilt but the sentiment fizzles up within her like a flame without oxygen. She shoves the thought away and focuses on what Ella is saying.

The rest of the night follows in a similar fashion. Hi drags Ella away and Tory finds herself talking with Madison which was still pretty awkward to say the least but a lot more natural than their interactions on her world. Which made sense, considering how close Ben and Jason were now that they were partners on the force. Tory was just glad she hadn't seemed to want pregnancy tips or something because Tory wouldn't have known what to say.

She's sitting on the steps of their old unit, eating a hot dog, when Linda sits down beside her. Tory had accosted Shelton the first chance she'd gotten and dragged the details out of him, pleased to discover that barring a minor freakout, Linda had taken the news well.

She eyes her now, eating her hot dog slowly to gauge Linda's mood. _She really is quite beautiful,_ Tory thinks as she examines her profile. High cheekbones like Shelton, arching eyebrows, soft brown eyes, a kind smile and a dark complexion. Abruptly, Linda turns to her, searching for something in Tory's face. Whatever she finds, she seems to accept.

"You know, I really thought Shelton was crazy when he told me that he had wolf DNA infused into his DNA… and then he showed me his eyes, the ones when you flare, that's what he called it. Flaring… He told me how it happened but I'm just having a difficult time wrapping my head around all of it. It sounds like something from a sci-fi movie," Linda rambled, her hands twisting and untwisting in her lap. Tory didn't need to flare to know she was nervous.

"Imagine living through it," Tory huffed an incredulous laugh. Linda turned sympathetic eyes on her.

"I can't imagine that constant fear of being found out…" she trailed off.

"You seem to be taking the news well," Tory pointed out. Linda smiled, eyes searching the crowd for Shelton.

"I love him and it's a part of him, of who he is. How could I not accept that?"

Tory couldn't contain her grin.

"Where do you come from again? Do you have any sisters? Because let me tell you, Hiram is a lovely person," Tory joked. Linda laughed.

"I don't think that's something you have to worry about," Linda replied. She followed Linda's line of sight to where Hi sat with an arm draped around Ella, eating french fries off her plate. Tory's eyebrows hiked into her hairline. Huh. That wasn't any different from how they acted back in her world and she hadn't ever thought of it in a romantic nature. Tory saved the thought for later reflection.

"Can I ask you something?"

Tory nodded.

"Does… does Grayson have it?" she whispers.

Tory's head whipped towards her, a momentary spike of panic running through her. She doesn't know how long she sits there, scrutinizing Linda, before she nods slowly, her heart pounding an unsteady beat in her chest. She turns her eyes back to the crowd, finding Grayson sitting on Shelton's lap near Hi and Ella, eating cake messily. Far behind them, almost hidden in the shadows of the night, Ben and Kit seemed to be deep in conversation.

"He can't control it either. That's why you and Ben won't enroll him," Linda says, more to herself than Tory. "I always wondered why you were both so against it but… It's scary trying to protect someone from something they don't even understand."

Something about the way she says it makes Tory think she's speaking from personal experience. She looks away, startling a little when Linda reaches for her hand.

"If you need anything, just ask."

"I'm glad Shelton found you," Tory says sincerely, giving her hand a squeeze. Linda patted her hand and stood up, dragging Tory along.

"Now I don't know about you but I want some cake."

They joined the others, Linda squeezing in next to Shelton and taking some of the cake Grayson offered her.

Tory sat down beside Audrey, Kit's girlfriend, hoping desperately that she wouldn't try to start a conversation with Tory.

While Tory was sure that Audrey was perfectly nice, she was almost glad that she wouldn't be around long enough to get used to her. Even talking to her felt like betraying Whitney. Which now that she thought about it, had been the issue with Whitney in the beginning as well.

She took a sip of her Coke, eyes landing on Jason and Madison who were heading their way.

"I didn't realize this was the VIP zone," Jason greeted.

"Yeah but only for Morris Islanders so you're not allowed, buddy," Hi replied, not unkindly.

"Ella and Linda aren't Morris kids," Jason pointed out, sitting opposite Hi and Ella, Madison settling beside him.

"That's where you're wrong, Taylor-san. They are honorary members," Hi leaned forward in his seat.

"So how do I become a honorary member?"

"You either marry in or you're appointed godparent," Shelton cut in, ticking off two fingers. Jason turned to Tory.

"Sorry Tor but everybody knows police partnerships are like a marriage," he shrugged and Tory rolled her eyes as Hi snickered.

The tell tale crack and whistle of a firework distracted her and soon everyone was on their feet watching the fireworks display overhead the Charleston harbor.

She searched the crowd for Ben, catching him coming out of his old unit. He came to a stop at her side, the skin around his eyes tight with anger.

"You okay?" she whispered.

Ben ground his teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping. She slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. He tensed and then relaxed at her side, releasing the anger in a breathy exhale. They watch the fireworks in silence, hand in hand. In her chest, her heart is beating a dangerous tune.

It's late when they arrive at home, Grayson having fallen asleep on the ride home. Ben carries him in, Coop shooting past them upstairs.

She catches sight of the album on the table where she'd left it last night. Plopping down onto the couch, she drags it towards her, feeling particularly tired in that moment.

The first photo was the very picture Tory had found in her room back in her own world of the four of them on the first day of school. Suddenly suffused with the desire to see the life she'd had here, a life so different from her life back home, she sunk further into the cushions as she flipped through the album.

There were a few others of the four of them throughout the years- things like photobooth reels, group outings, graduation pictures- and Tory's eyes sting with tears as she longs for those days.

After that, the photos became more personal, usually of her- the other Tory- and Ben. Wedding pictures with a radiant-looking Tory and a joyous Ben, the love between them so pronounced even on paper. She skimmed her fingers down one of what appeared to be their honeymoon. There were others of course, some downright silly.

There was one where Tory was looking off to the side at Ben, laughing at him. Ben, on the other hand, was scowling, wearing some cowboy hat and a pink feather boa, Shelton and Hi behind him holding up two fingers. And then there were the pregnancy pictures. Looking at those, Tory had the urge to slam the book closed and run away from it as far as possible but she steeled herself and continued. She passed the pictures of when Grayson was born, multiple shots of different people holding him. A proud Kit. A teary Shelton. Ben crying and Tory herself, looking tired and proud. Ella and Hi, sitting close together and looking down at the bundle in Hi's arms.

There's one of Ben's first day at the precinct, Jason in his own uniform at his side laughing shyly. Much more of Grayson, from his first steps to his first tooth and then some more recent. It was everything that was and wasn't.

Reaching the end, Tory found a newspaper clipping of an obituary. Opening it, she read it quietly. The clipping fluttered to the floor, followed by the envelope of photos of the only person not in the album. Whitney.

She was dead. Had been for years. Just shortly after Tory's college graduation. Grayson wouldn't have known her because she had died long before he was even conceived. She hadn't even seen Tory marry. Whitney had been such a part of Tory's life since her mother's death and no matter how much Tory had wished it otherwise back then, now Tory wouldn't have traded her for anything.

Her shoulders shook as her mind dredged up the memory of the look on Kit's face when she'd mentioned Whitney. Oh god, Kit. Tory hiccuped, tears blurring her vision. Suddenly, she was pulled into someone's chest. Ben. He ran a hand down her back, shushing her and whispering consolations into her ear. Tory's crying doubled.

_This wasn't home,_ she thought. This wasn't her Ben, her world. The Hi and Shelton here weren't her Hi and Shelton. The Kit here wasn't her Kit. Even Grayson, as much as she wished he was, wasn't hers.

This wasn't home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. School has been hectic, I swear teachers coordinate with each other to assign everything at once. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you guys will enjoy it too. Until next time!


	4. That Looks on Tempests

_ Let me not to the marriage of true minds  _

_ Admit impediments. Love is not love  _

_ Which alters when it alteration finds,  _

_ Or bends with the remover to remove.  _

_ O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  _

_ That looks on tempests and is never shaken _

-William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

 

_ She’s hiding something,  _ Ben thinks.

He doesn’t need to flare to see how she fidgets uncomfortably under his gaze or how her voice tremble just the slightest bit when she responds to Jason. 

They’re interrogating the last of the hospital employees for the day and Ben just feels it in his gut that this one, the pretty nurse sitting before them, she knows something. Jason thanks her for her time and smiles at her warmly, waiting a few seconds after the door has shut before turning to Ben.

“Looks like we have our first suspect, Blue,” he says, stacking her file atop the others. Ben shakes his head, opening the door and leading the way out. When they pass by the nurse’s station, the nurse they were just questioning ducks her head and scurries out of view.

Ben waits till they get to the car to speak.

“She reacted when we brought up the third vic but I don’t think she had anything to do with the actual murders,” Ben argues. Jason shrugs, checking the rear-view mirror as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“I don’t suppose you’ll help me catch up on my paperwork?” he asks sweetly, shooting him a toothy grin. Ben snorts, murmuring  _ not bloody likely  _ into his fist. Jason frowned. 

“Come onnn. Have a heart, Blue.”

“Sorry, the Wizard of Oz never gave me one. Besides I told you to finish it earlier.”

Ben ignores Jason’s mumbling and spends the ride back to the station silently looking over the notes he’d taken for each of the interrogations, the occasional chatter of the radio distracting him.

He clocks out at the station, leaving Jason to finish the report he’d been too lazy to hand in earlier. 

When he walks in through the front door, Tory and Grayson are sitting at the kitchen table, Tory looking frustrated.

“Grayson, just a few more bites,” she pleaded.

“No! Tastes gross!”

“It’s the mac and cheese we always make. You love mac and cheese. It just tastes funny cause you’re sick,” Tory explains calmly, putting the spoon down and propping her head up on the table. She meets his eyes over the top of Grayson’s head, the familiar green a soothing comfort.

_ I’ll take it from here. _

She jolts, eyes widening as if she’s surprised to hear his voice in her head. She does that a lot these days, Ben thinks, acting as if everything is so new to her. He’d be concerned if he didn’t already know her tendency to over-analyze. 

He picks Grayson up from the seat, settling him onto his lap and smiling when the little squirt turns and hides his face in his shirt.

“You have to eat if you want to get better, Gray,” Ben admonishes.

“Don’t want,” Grayson whines, the warmth radiating from him seeping through the fabric of Ben’s uniform.

Spying Grayson’s hearing aid on the table, Ben switches gears.

“Are your ears hurting?”

Grayson nods his head, fingers curling into the lapels of his uniform. Ben grimaces because he knows what come next, it always starts like this. He rests his cheek on the crown of Grayson’s head, wishing he could do something to make it all stop. His heart clenches as he thinks of how bad things got last time.

Pushing Grayson gently away from him, he continues the conversation with his hands.

_ Four more bites. _

Grayson scowls, turning his head away from the food, sniffing in disdain. Ben can’t help the twitch of his lips. He’s always said that Grayson looks like Tory when he scowls.

_ No. _

_ Four. _

_ Two. _

_ Three and I’ll give you ice cream. _

Grayson strokes his chin, something Hi obviously taught him, pretending to think it over. He turns and quickly shoves three spoonfuls of mac and cheese into his mouth.

“Done!” he manages through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” they scold in unison.

They watch Grayson drag his chair over to the refrigerator, climb atop and retrieve the carton of cookie dough ice cream.

“You can't keep bribing him with ice cream,” Tory says unamused. Ben shrugs.

“Well it worked.”

* * *

Tory knocks over the glass of water on the nightstand in her haste to get out of bed. There is a ringing in her eyes and a burning sensation in her chest, one that tugs her towards the door and out into the hall, Ben at her heels.

When they reach Grayson’s room, the door swinging open under her hand, Coop is barking at the window and Grayson is crying, hands clapped over his ears, eyes an unearthly blue.

“Coop! Stop barking,” Tory yells over the cacophony of noise. Coop falls silent, whimpering and pawing at his ears. 

Ben shoves through the doorway, crossing the room and kneeling before Grayson. Cupping his face, he speaks quietly.

“Grayson. Gray. Listen to my voice. Tune it out.”

Feeling lost and unsure of what to do, Tory moves to Coop’s side. Running her hand down his side, she scans the streets outside, finding nothing out of the ordinary but Coop often enough barked without any reason to. He was still a dog after all. But she didn’t understand what was happening with Grayson.

“Tory. He’s not tuning it out.  _ Talk _ to him.”

She turns back to them, Ben’s emphasis making it clear what she has to do . She makes her way across the room, her mind already seeking out the connection, the one she has to every member of the pack. She sits on the bed beside Grayson, pulling him to her chest. 

In her mind, the tunnels appear before her, bright and brilliant and blue. Distress radiates from the tunnel on the left, one that shone brighter and stronger than the rest. Tory grasped the connection, gasping as a maelstrom of emotions waved over her consciousness. Pushing them aside, she focused her efforts on broadcasting her message.

_ Grayson. Can you hear me? _

He nodded. 

_ Tune everything else out. Focus on my heartbeat. _

After a few moments, Grayson goes silent, small frame still shaking with suppressed sobs. He opened his eyes, the blue bleeding away and leaving only dark brown, small hands seeking Ben’s. Ben gave him a tight smile.

“Tune it out, Gray. We taught you how.”

Grayson sniffled quietly.

“The noise hurts my head,” he croaked, voice small and scared. 

“I know it does,” Ben replied, eyes meeting Tory's. 

Grayson looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, freckled cheeks stained with tears. Tory wiped away the tears, her mind racing to connect the dots.

“It's okay. It's okay,” she repeated. She didn't know who she was trying to reassure. Herself or Grayson.

* * *

 

Tory watched Ben and Shelton from the couch. Beside her, Grayson was asleep, curled into Hi’s side. They had called Shelton in the morning, Hi having insisted on coming along.

“I've never been able to hear at the frequencies Grayson can. What he's hearing- He's more Virals than the rest of us, you know this. He's listening to frequencies beyond that of what any human can hear,” Shelton explained solemnly, watching Grayson sleep.

“That's not telling me how we can help him, Shelton,” Ben gritted, body tense and rigid.

“I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you.”

Shelton flinched when Ben turned and smacked the wall with his palm. On Grayson’s other side, Hi remained grim and silent, absentmindedly running his fingers through Grayson's hair. 

“Isn't there medication he can take?” Tory hears herself ask and she immediately regrets it because medication means doctors and testing and that’s not something they can risk. Still…

Her mind kept replaying the scene, Grayson's crying echoing in her ears. 

The boys remained silent for a moment and then Ben spoke, a lot calmer than Tory would have expected.

“You know why we can't…”

She cuts him off.

“I know, I know but he’s three. He shouldn't have to deal with this. He didn’t choose it,” Tory spits, angry at the world. At nature.

Hi let out a derisive laugh and Shelton fidgeted, tugging on his ear.

“And we did?” 

Tory looked over, surprised by the bitterness in Hi’s voice. Hi sighed. 

“We always knew there were going to be consequences. Grayson… he’ll learn to control it just like we did,” Hi continued.

“You can’t know that. You heard Shelton, he’s more powerful than any of us,” Tory argued.

“I do know that. You know why? Because he has you and Ben and he has Shelton and me,” Hi interjected.

“Hiram’s right,” Ben spoke, waiting until she met his eyes before continuing. “We get through this like we get through anything. Together.”

Tory searched his face, finding nothing but resolve and when she looked at Hiram, she found the same. It’s a polarizing sensation, she thinks, to feel so at home with these people and yet feel like an outsider.

“What now?” Shelton asks after an awkward bout of silence. Beside her, Grayson stirs, rubbing at his eyes. They watch him blink sleepily for a moment, disoriented. 

“I’m hungry,” he announces and just like that the tense mood dissipates. They would have to talk about everything, come up with a plan but for now, life went on.

“Anyone up for an impromptu barbecue?” Hiram offered, patting his stomach.

Tory glanced at the clock, at Ben who shrugged, at Grayson who nodded vigorously and back at Hiram.

“You’re on.”

* * *

 

Tory decides to go running the next morning. She needs time to process everything that happened with Grayson yesterday and it really doesn't help her confusion when she wakes up in Ben's arms. Somewhere throughout the night, they've gravitated towards each other. 

She's curled up in the space beside his ribs, one leg thrown over his and her face tucked into the crook of his neck. Under her hand, Tory can feel the slow, rhythmic thuds of Ben's heart. She drags a nail down the soft warm skin of his chest, drawing spirals and shapes. Propping herself up on her elbow, she looks down at his face. His face is turned toward her, lips parted open, thick dark lashes flickering every so often. Tory’s heart thuds painfully in her chest. He was beautiful… and not hers.

Forcing herself away from the warmth of his body, Tory pads down the hallway, looking into Grayson's room. 

Grayson is in bed, only a dark head peeking out from the blue rocketship blankets. At the foot of his bed, Coop looks up at Tory and goes back to sleep. Tory goes downstairs and into the kitchen where she puts coffee to brew.

She's staring out the kitchen window when Karasi appears beside her. Tory sipped at her coffee, eyes flicking over to where Karasi was looking through the cabinets.

“What do you want?” Tory asked, deceptively calm despite the screaming mess of thoughts in her head. 

Karasi helped herself to a cup of tea, bright eyes peering at her from over the rim of her cup.

“You are strange, Victoria Brennan,” Karasi muses, watching her with mischievous eyes. “It's not everyone that can be tempted with everything they’ve ever wanted and not take advantage of it.”

Tory doesn't dare twitch, that would mean accepting Karasi’s words as truth and Tory doesn't know whether she’s ready to admit that to herself.

“It's not fair to them,” she responds quietly, feeling the bitterness rise within her. Karasi hums in response, watching her quietly. 

“Enjoy your time with them while you still can, my dear. Time is running out.”

She disappears, the only indication she’d ever been there at all was the empty cup.  

Tory finishes her coffee in discontent and heads upstairs to change.

She’s putting her hair up into a ponytail when Ben walks into the bathroom, hair mussed and eyes bleary.

“Where you headed?”

“Going for a run. Need to clear my head,” she says, distracted by the way the soft raven locks brush against smooth deeply tanned skin.

He nods, leaning down to spit out foam. Her eyes stray downwards, finding the line of his spine. He turns and quirks an eyebrow at her when he finds her staring. 

He goes to dry his face and it should feel like a dismissal but instead, Tory can't help but feel like a fly caught in a spiderweb, about to be encased.

“Think I can convince you to stay?” he asks coyly, turning and planting one hand to either side of her on the sink.

“You can certainly try,” Tory manages, feeling brave and only partly horrified at the way her belly fills with warmth and glee. 

Ben smiles, that smile that’s only reserved for her, and leans forward to capture Tory’s lips. Tory's lips open up under his, the breath shared between them minty and fresh. His hands come to rest at her waist as hers skate up the warm expanse of his chest. In her chest, her heart skips a beat, possibly two. She cupped his jaw, opening up the kiss with a flick of her tongue, the kiss growing deeper and more languid.

His lips left hers, trailing down her neck and coming to rest at her collarbone. He give it a nip and Tory swore her legs had turned to jello. He caught her against the sink, hoisting her up onto the counter, his hands like brands on the fabric of her leggings. She locked her ankles behind his back, pulling at the roots of his hair, reveling in the way his teeth catch her bottom lip. 

A far off voice in the back of her head told her she should stop this before it went too far but the rest of her was far too gone on the high that was Ben’s spearmint kisses. She pulled back, inviting him to chase her lips. Her back hit the cold surface of the mirror, the contact making her gasp.

“I really should go,” she gasped breathlessly, breath hot and warm against the shell of his ear, feeling his hand skim the side of her thigh and coming to rest underneath her shirt at the small of her back.. He shudders, exhaling a shaky breath against her neck.

“You still want to go?” he asks incredulously, pulling back, eyes flickering back to her lips.

She stares at him, tempted to stay and let this go as far as it will but- she shakes her head. 

“You are very distracting,” Tory murmurs, ducking her head and dragging him in for another kiss, “and that’s not a compliment so stop smirking.”

She rests her forehead against his, tracing his jaw with her thumb as she catches her breath. With a palm to his shoulder, she shoves him back, sliding off the counter.

She flees from the bathroom, blood still singing in her veins and making everything impossibly hot. Outside, the fresh air is a welcome relief on her skin, a soothing balm that desensitizes… well, everything.

She sets off on her run, weaving through the streets of Charleston, passing shops and homes she’s seen a thousand times. Everything looks the same but the knowledge that things aren’t, it makes her long for home. But home isn’t just her Charleston anymore, home is also here. With Grayson and Ben and Hi and Shelton and Linda.

She stops on South Broad to catch her breath and wait for the light to turn and that’s when she sees it. Claybourne Manor looming up ahead in all it's Southern glory, empty and imposing. 

She stands there, chest heaving, lungs burning and lips still tingling with the taste of spearmint, and a terrible thought crosses her mind. 

She can’t marry him.

* * *

 

He’s supposed to have the day off, Ben thinks bitterly as he steps into the station.

There’s a boy, no older than sixteen if he would guess, sitting on the bench in the lobby. Ben has seen him in here before plenty of times. The officer at the front desk greets him and continues to fill out paperwork. Upstairs is where the chaos begins.

Officers walking about pulling evidence and searching for case files, the air filled with the crackling static of radioed responses and orders. 

In the eye of the storm, Jason looks up from the folder in front of him, weary-eyed and grim-faced.

When he approaches, Jason hands him the folder. 

“She talked, knew the third vic. They had an affair. She gave us our next lead,” Jason nodded at the folder in his hands, crossing his arms before continuing, “Dr. Jacob Grisevich. Been working there, at the hospital, for 3 years. Wife died of chronic hepatitis C, she had cirrhosis just like the victims. The doctor hasn’t been seen in a few days and according to Ms. Rivers, he actually consulted on some of the vics’ conditions.”

Ben nodded, skimming the contents of the folder. 

“Lead the way, Taylor.”

The house of Dr. Jacob Grisevich is a secluded, white bungalow in the Lower County near the marshes. Jason knocks again and waits impatiently, peaking into the windows. Signaling Ben to cover the right side of the house, he heads left.

At first, Ben thinks the smell is just the rotting of wood from the marshes but as he grows closer to the back of the house, the coppery smell of blood reaches his nose. He finds the body just as Jason reaches the back of the house. 

“There goes our lead,” Ben mutters, leaning forward to inspect the bullet entrance under the chin.

“I’ll go call it in,” Jason sighs.

Ben waves away the flies and frowns at the body.

He was supposed to have the day off. 

* * *

Tory wakes to the sound of glass breaking. Squinting into the darkness, she makes out the sleeping form of Grayson, who’s plastered himself to Tory’s side and is drooling on the sheets.

Sitting up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, peering blearily at the clock on the nightstand. Bright red numbers swim into her vision.

_ 12:13 _

Making her way downstairs, she calls out. 

“Ben?” 

From the kitchen, light filters in, illuminating the empty living room. She comes to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen, her eyes skipping to where glass and water litter the floor. 

“What happened?”

“‘M just tired. It slipped. We got a lead on the case and our lead turned up dead,” Ben waves a dismissive hand, looking up from where he’s mopping water. 

_ He does look tired,  _ she notes. With his hair pulled back, Tory can see the dark circles under his eyes.

She steps forward carefully, taking the mop from him.

“Go upstairs. I’ll clean this up,” she said softly. 

“And you’re calling in sick tomorrow,” Tory stabbed a finger at him, enunciating each word with a stab.

He frowns but goes without protest. 

She cleans up the glass and the water and heads upstairs. He’s standing over Grayson, running a hand down his back. Surrounded by the sea of blankets, Tory is once again struck by just how small Grayson is. He turns to her, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

Karasi’s warning floats to the forefront of her mind and something inside her twists. 

Soon enough, she’d have to leave him.  _ Both of them, _ Tory thought, glancing down at Grayson’s still form. 

She climbs back into bed and is almost asleep when he slips in behind her, still damp from his shower.. 

Placing a kiss in the place where her shoulder blades meet, Ben rests his forehead on her back and presses his feet to her ankles. Tory hisses and shoves at him.

“Your feet are cold. Get away from me.”

  
His laughter is muffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nervous laughter* Im back! After like 3 months! I apologize about that


	5. No Space Lies In Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEWARE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE. THERE BE SMUT AHEAD (and cursing)

_Never knew karma could be so rewarding_  
 _and bring me to your life._  
 _Maybe this is the beginning_  
 _of something so magical, tonight_  
-“Legendary Lovers” Katy Perry

Tory has to shout to be heard over the thumping bass of the music. Hi cringed, pulling back and heading off to the bar to get their drinks. When Ella had suggested they go to a club to “celebrate another case closed”, Tory had been hesitant. She hadn’t been clubbing in a long time despite Ella’s occasional offers and to be honest, she didn’t really like going either. Still, the others had agreed, Linda groaning about how she needed to enjoy her vacation before classes started, and so Tory had reluctantly agreed. Only Jason had turned down the invitation, not wanting to leave Madison alone when she couldn't drink anyways.

Kit was more than happy to take Grayson for the night, waving Tory’s apologies off and insisting that he didn’t mind. When he mentioned how lonely it was in the house by himself, something in Tory withered. So many times she’d wondered how Kit would be if he didn’t have Whitney to drag him out of his office in LIRI or to make him happy with a home-cooked meal or whatever extravagant event she came up with and now she finally knew. She didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Hi waved her drink in front of her face, sliding in next to her on the booth. Linda and Ella reached for their shot glasses, clinked them together and downing the liquid in one go. Linda made a face as she swallowed, Ella slamming the shot glass down on the table next to her.

In between Linda and Ben, Shelton reached for his glass, looking down at the liquid morosely.

“I’m going to regret this so much in the morning,” he said before tipping it all back. He coughed as the liquid fire spread, Ben slapping him on the back.

Tory watched as Ben and Hi knocked their own glasses back. She still wasn’t a big drinker, sticking to things like wine and champagne rather than heavier drinks but she made an effort when they were out.

Sipping at the fruity concoction in her glass, she watched as Ella pulled Linda into the gyrating mass of bodies, Hiram following behind.

The few times she’d gone to the club with the other Virals (sans Ben who was usually abroad), she’d always sat back with Shelton, content to let Ella and Hi tear up the dance floor, although she’d had her fair share of wild nights. Shelton wasn’t too fond of clubs either but unlike her, Shelton disliked them for the sexually charged atmospheres. It really hadn’t come as a surprise to her when he’d come out as asexual a few years ago. She assumed it was the same here on this world.

“My eyes can never unsee this,” Shelton commented, grimacing as he watched Hi on the dance floor.

Tory slid her eyes to the dancefloor where a blonde girl in a short, low-cut dress had sidled up to Hi. Tory watched, half horrified at the show those two were putting on. She loved her pack, really but she had absolutely no desire to know about the sex life of any of her packmates. She agreed with Shelton when it came to that.

“Oh my god,” she choked out in a strangled whisper.

Shaking her head, she looked back down at her drink. Making a snap decision, she stood, taking a long drink from her glass, the vodka-laced concoction burning a trail down her throat, and went to go find Ella and Linda, leaving Shelton and Ben at the booth.

As she walked, she tugged on the hem of her dress. She’d chosen a short form-fitting black dress which seemed like a great idea back home when she’d seen the look on Ben’s face but now, with the sticky hot air against her bare legs and the eyes that roamed over her, not so much.

She found them near the DJ, Ella’s dark hair fanning out behind her as Linda twirled her. They welcomed her into the fold, Ella giving her a feral grin when Tory slipped in between them, swinging her hips in tune to the music.

Almost ten songs later, Tory’s lungs burned, her feet ached and she felt too hot in the confines of the dress, pressed against Linda and Ella as she was. Linda turned in her arms, yelling that she was going to take a break. Together, they dragged Ella back to the table, the three of them collapsing into the booth sweaty, sticky and worn out. Shelton and Hi gazed at them with hazy eyes, shot glasses littering the table before them.

“Tor, there’s like fo-four of you,” Hi slurred, hiccuping. Tory snorted, leaning back into the plush cushions and fanning herself. Ella shoved Hi further into the booth, making space to splay out on the cushions. She kicked off her heels and dug her toes into Tory’s thighs, resting her head on Hi’s shoulder. Across from her, Shelton whispered something to Linda, who smiled and leaned in to kiss him sweetly.

“Where’s Ben?” she asks.

Shelton looked away from Linda, a dopey expression on his face. Tory bit her lip to hide her smile, watching him blink a few times before he pointed in the direction of the bar.

She leaned back into the booth, scanning the length of the bar. Ben was tucked up against the wall, nursing a drink and ignoring the girl with dark purple-tipped hair sitting next to him, leaning in far, far too close.

“You should get me a drink,” Ella suggested, nudging Tory in the thigh with her toes. Tory looks at her, having been friends with Ella for far too long to be fooled by the innocent look on her face. Hi asks for water, a request Linda seconds.

“Enabler,” Tory accused as she got up from the table, her legs crying out in pain.

She’s only going because she’s getting drinks for everyone. Not because she’s jealous or anything. Nope, not at all.

The fact that she heads straight for Ben and the girl probably doesn’t help her case.

She comes to a stop at Ben’s side, meeting the girl’s eyes over his head. Her eyes flick between Tory and Ben in quick succession. Ben looks up at Tory, dark eyes still sharp and clear. He leans in to her almost unconsciously, wrapping an arm around her waist, relaxing against her when Tory slides her fingers into soft silky hair.

The girl looks at the ring on Tory’s finger and retreats back to her own seat, looking embarrassed. A few seconds later, she flees into the crowd, drink in hand. Tory almost feels bad. Almost.

She calls the bartender over, ordering the drinks. While she waits, she cards her fingers through Ben’s hair.

“You owe me a dance,” she bends to speak into his ear.

“You know me. Dancing. Love it,” Ben grimaced and she laughs, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

The bartender hands her the drinks and she heads back to the table with Ben.

Ella shoots her a soppy grin and Tory flips her off, rolling her eyes when Ella laughs.

Overhead, the music changes from a thudding bass to something sensual, low and sultry. She looks over at Ben, dark hair brushing the collar of the black button down he has on. Reaching for one of Ella’s shot glasses, Tory lets the liquid burn down her throat and feeling loose and confident, she grabs Ben’s hand and leads him onto the dance floor.

Behind her, she hears Ella whoop and Hi catcall. Ignoring the flush that crawls up her neck, Tory stops just out of view of the table and turns in the circle of Ben’s arms, pulling him flush against her.

His breath fans over her ear and Tory shivers when he speaks, voice low and husky.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Tory nods, finding it difficult to breathe let alone speak.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lets the raw energy of the music flow through her and guide her hips. She forgets about the roomful of people around them, about the fact that the others at the table are probably watching.

All she knows is the heat in her veins, the beat of the music and the feeling of Ben’s body against hers.

Running her hands down his chest, she turns, pressing her back to his chest and letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. Her skin prickles with cold sweat and her knees buckle, Ben’s hands on her hips keeping her up. Suddenly, she’s aware of the heady scent sticking to him, the heat of his hands through the fabric of her dress, the erratic beating of his heart, the soft fibers of his shirt.

He tenses behind her and she knows he feels it too.

Bringing her hands down to cover his on her hips, she wills him to relax, pressing a soft kiss to the soft underside of his jaw.

Keeping her eyes closed, she lets herself sway to the music.

Even with her senses on overdrive, Ben’s whispered reminder barely filters through the fog in her mind.

She waits till the song ends to will the flare within her to die out. When she meets his eyes, dark and unfathomably deep, she knows with absolute certainty there is no going back.

* * *

  
Hot hands ran down the length of her body as cool lips sucked on her collarbone. She grabbed the hem of her dress, stripping it off and letting it fall to the steps.

They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom before they’d begun pulling at each other’s clothes.

It’s rushed and frantic, the need to be closer, to be one, but there’s also a familiarity to his touch, an affection.

He sweeps her hair out of the way, pressing a kiss onto the erratic wrecked pulse at the nape of her neck. She yanks at his shirt, the material soft and yielding underneath her ministrations, unbuttoning it feverishly, cool palms slipping and sliding over warm skin.

Dropping it to the floor, she hikes a leg up onto his hip, wordlessly urging him to pick her up. His hands are like brands on her bare thighs, hoisting her up and pinning her to the wall. He holds her there for a moment, thumbs painting circles onto her thighs, brushing the black band of her underwear.

She wraps her hands around his shoulders, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. Her heart is racing and it feels like it might jump right out of her chest but there’s nothing here to stop her. No one to ask her if she wants this. And she does.

She lifts her head and reaches out to cup his face, dragging him into a slow, achingly long kiss, one that banishes any thought left in her head.

He seems to read her mind, moving up the stairs as if she were air in his arms and god, if that doesn't make her feel like putty in his hands.

At the top, she slides off and shoves him against the wall, giving him a wicked grin as she sinks to her knees.

“Fuck, Victoria,” he curses, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thump.

It’s been a long, long time since she’s done this but all throughout, she watches him shudder and groan and she likes the fact that she can overwhelm so completely like he does her.

“Victoria,” her name is a prayer on his lips, a whisper, a groan.

Tory just takes him deeper, sliding her lips over the soft sensitive skin, staring up at the beautifully obscene mess she’s made of him. When he tugs her up and walks her backward into the bedroom and onto the bed, something in her chest thrills with excitement.

That intense feeling that makes her feel like she’ll burst only increases when he throws her legs over his shoulders and flattens his tongue against her lips.

She thinks she says his name, or at least she tries to, but words are a foreign concept in her mind, floating further and further away with every flick of his tongue.

She’s starting to see stars when he stops. The whine that escapes her is an involuntary one and Ben chuckles when he comes into view, mussed hair a curtain around his face.

“Get to it, Benjamin,” she growls, glaring up at him.

“So impatient,” he grins, reaching for something in the drawers.

“Fuck you.”

“That is the plan,” he says straight-faced and she’s gonna snipe back at him but he cuts her off with a kiss, settling in the cradle of her hips.

Pulling back, she chews on her lip, marveling at the man before her.

“What do you want?” he asks, voice raspy and eyes unfocused.

The word spills out of her without hesitation.

“You.”

He eases in and Tory hisses, fingers fisting at the sheets. He stops, dropping his head onto her shoulder, mouthing at the curve of her breast, until she urges him forward, whispering incoherently into his ear.

He moves and it’s…

She doesn’t have the words to describe it but she knows she wants this, now, tomorrow, the day after that, possibly for the rest of her life. She doesn't realize she’s crying until Ben wipes the tears from her face.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks, eyebrows creasing in concern.

She shakes her head frantically, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. She kisses him, gasping when he snaps his hips against hers. He continues, fire fraying at her nerves and blinding her until she’s seen entire galaxies painted on the back of her eyelids.

He collapses beside her, chest heaving and breath still stuttering every so often.

Tory blinks at the ceiling blankly, her brain still very much offline. She looks at him, content to drink him in like this. Relaxed, flushed, hair a mess from her frantic ministrations, lips still swollen.

A swell of emotion rises within her and she can’t help but lean over and caress his cheek. He turns to her, nudging his nose against hers before fitting their mouths together.

She rested her forehead against his, fingers toying with the ends of his hair, eyes fluttering closed.

“You know I love you, right?”

He whispers it against the curve of her cheek, his breath tickling her. Tory doesn't dare open her eyes, she just nods her head and hugs him tighter. Inside, she’s fervently praying she could stay in this moment forever.

“Did you…” she hesitated, “Did you ever think we’d end up here?”

Ben was silent against her.

“Part of me always thought you’d choose Chance… or even Jason,” his voice came muffled, lips parting on her cheek, “But if I had to relive it all, the anxiety, the… Gamemaster, the men in black… knowing this was the endgame, I would.”

He says it so confidently, so sincerely. The words slice through her heart. Not knowing how to respond, she buried her face in his chest, crushing the will to cry. They stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling against one another.

It feels a lot like goodbye.

* * *

 

Tory pushed the throttle forward, _Sewee_ leaving a trail of foam in it's wake as it sailed from the dock. Tory grinned, feeling smug. She hadn’t driven Sewee in a long time. In the passenger seat, Grayson was looking out at the ocean, Coop’s head on his lap.

She docked at Turtle Beach, passing the cresting cliffs of Tern Point and the wooded forests beyond. As soon as Coop was free from the boat, he shot off into the undergrowth, yipping. Grayson looked up at her, curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Is Coop going to see his mommy?”

Tory nodded, swinging him onto her hip. Above them, in the trees, rhesus monkeys watched them and chattered. Tory took in a deep breath, smelling the rich soil of the forest floor and the sweet brine of the sea. She couldn't remember the last time she’d visited Loggerhead in her own world. For the most part, she was always at Candela and on her days off, usually with Chance or Ella.

Over her shoulder, Grayson watched the monkeys, giggling whenever they swung themselves from the trees. Tory held him tighter, feeling a rush of affection overcome her. Jackson loved the monkeys too.

They came to a stop at the gates, waiting until Hudson came to unlock them. When he saw them, he grumbled something about LIRI not being a daycare. Tory ignored him.

Inside the fence, LIRI scientists hustled to and fro between the buildings, absorbed in their readings. A few waved to her as she made her way to Building One, some even cooing over Grayson. Grayson just tucked himself closer to her side, just as shy as his dad.

After signing in, she made her way up to Kit’s office. The elevators opened and in walked Dr. Sundberg. He looked up from his tablet, startled to see her.

“Tory! Long time no see,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing. He hadn't changed much in 14 years, losing only a bit of the youth that had once graced his face. His eyes flickered down to Grayson who gazed back at him curiously. As the elevator doors closed behind him, he signed what Tory recognized as ‘hello’. Lifting his head from where it was hidden in the crook of Tory’s neck, Grayson signed back a shy ‘hello’.

“I didn't know you knew sign language,” Tory commented. Dr. Sundberg looked back up at her, smiling.

“Yeah. My roommate in college taught me some of the basics,” he explained. “You heading up to see Kit?”

Tory hummed in affirmation.

“Could I show the little guy around?”

Tory hesitated. Dr. Sundberg was harmless, she knew that but after everything with Karsten, the Gamemaster posing as a LIRI employee and then Iglehart, Tory wasn't very open to the idea of letting Grayson go off anywhere with anyone at LIRI who wasn't family.

“Maybe later,” she suggested, smiling tersely. Dr. Sundberg nodded, suddenly embarrassed, turning as the doors opened. He stepped out, waving over his shoulder.

Kit was on the phone when she arrived, the Dragon away on one of her smoke breaks. She set Grayson down, watching him climb up onto Kit’s lap. Kit smiled, giving her his ‘I’ll be done in a minute’ signal.

She sat down in one of the stiff-backed chairs Kit had in his office, content to wait. She’d wanted to visit Kit at LIRI and Ben had suggested taking Sewee. Tory, of course, hadn’t known where he docked the boat so she’d made a game of it, asking Grayson if he knew where papa parked the boat.

Across the ways, Building Six stood. Where everything had begun.

“Tory,” Kit calls. She turns.

“You okay there?”

Tory stands, nodding.

“Yeah. I’m just going to go find Hi. You okay if Grayson stays?” she asks.

“Of course. He should be in Building 2.”

“Thank youuu,” Tory calls over her shoulder.

When she steps into the elevator, Karasi is waiting for her.

“No no no,” Tory moans, a sinking feeling forming itself in the pit of her stomach.

Karasi turns to her, eyes full of pity. Tory bristles.

“It is time to go, my dear child. The glimpse was only supposed to be that; a glimpse.”

Tory sucked in a breath.

“Give me more time. Please,” she pleads.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll wake up in your own world. I am sorry but this was always meant to be temporary,” Karasi explains.

Tory barely notices when she leaves. Her mind is racing with too many thoughts but all of them speak of the inevitable.

The end has come, too fast too soon.

She’s not ready to leave this world.

* * *

  
“Be good, okay? I love you,” Tory whispers.

“Where you going?” Grayson asks, lips trembling as if he's about to cry.

“Nowhere at all, my love. You won't even realize I'm gone,” Tory whispers and the truth of that statement is like a dagger to the chest. She pulls him in, hugging him to her chest protectively, the urge to cry rising in her. She presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Go to sleep. Tomorrow, we can make pancakes,” Tory croaks, the little face before her blurring with tears. She smooths a hand down his hair. Coop hops onto the bed, stretching out at the foot of the bed, pausing when Tory swipes a hand down his flank.

_I’ll see you at home, dog-breath._

She sits by Grayson’s side until he falls asleep. Of all the people in this world, she’ll miss him the most, she knows. She’ll go back and she’ll see Kit again, Hi and Shelton and even Ben, Whitney and Jackson too but not Grayson. He didn’t exist back home.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, running her hand through inky black curls and over soft freckled cheeks.

In the kitchen, Ben hands her a cup of tea and they sit on the porch watching the stars just like they did when she first arrived.

She doesn't quite feel like sleeping so instead she watches Ben sleep like she did Grayson. She watches as headlights flicker and chase shadows across the walls, the way Ben’s chest rises and falls with every even breath he takes, the way his hair seems to shine in the light of the moonlight. She feels restless, waiting for the inevitable and hoping against all odds that she can escape it.

Ben mumbles in his sleep, turning over and the urge to wake him, to trace his features, to tell him everything, it’s a strong one.

She gets up from bed and goes downstairs, settling on the couch with the album. She flips through the entire album three times and by then, the sky is lightening up outside and Tory feels the fingers of time reaching out for her.

She flips the page and smiles. Of all the pictures in the album, this is her favorite.

She sits there, looking down at the joyous faces of people she will leave behind and return to.

She closes her eyes and she can see the light on her eyelids.

 _It's only for a minute_ , she thinks as she rests her head against the back of the sofa.

She can stay awake and never leave.

_Only for a minute._


	6. Until You Lose It All

_Everything is clear to me_

_'Till I hit reality and I lose it all_

_I lose it all_

__-“Addicted” Enrique Iglesias_ _  

 

She found it standing where it’d always been, even when she hadn't known it was there.

It looked so similar, grey green shingles and thin white trimming, rose bushes flowering in the front yard, the harbor and the still grey waters sparkling just beyond. For a moment, she could almost fool herself into believing that she was still there.

But, she knew, and _god_ how she wished she didn't, that there was no Grayson waiting for her inside there. He wasn't waiting for her to come home so she could sweep him up in her arms and he could tell her all about his day, fingers flying in the air. Or waiting with a book in his hands and questions on his lips.

At her side, Cooper nosed his head into her palm, sensing her distress.

Waking up in her own bed, realizing she’d been whisked away from them and back to her own reality, Tory had felt the world drop out from under her feet.

She had screamed into the cavernous halls of Claybourne Manor, yelled, begged for Karasi to appear until her voice had grown hoarse and her throat begun to ache.

Walking here had been an unconscious act. The walls of Claybourne Manor were closing in on her, making it difficult to breathe. Without another thought, she’d left the house, walking to the one place that remained of that life.

She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, looking up at the house, Cooper at her side, when the front door opened. Tory startled as a boy of maybe 16 stepped outside, locking the door behind him. He strode off into the street, listening to music, oblivious to Tory’s presence.

His appearance seemed to break the spell of enchantment, the pull that kept her standing there, watching over the house like a ghostly sentinel.

_I am not defined by what I’ve lost,_ she told herself. It was a lie but perhaps a necessary one.

She gave the house one last glance and turned away, trying and failing to lock away all the memories of the other world in the house where the other her had made a family.

She walks all the way to Morris, the ache in her legs matching the ache in her chest, her feet on autopilot as her thoughts wander. By the time she arrives at the townhouse, the sun has long set and the stars are little bright pinpricks in the inky black sky.

She knocks and it’s a few minutes before anyone opens up but eventually, the door opens, the light from within bathing Tory and Cooper in gold.

“Tory?”

Whitney stares out at her, blue eyes bleary with sleep. Blonde curls poke out from under the purple eyemask Whitney has on her forehead.

Tory throws herself at Whitney, hugging her tightly, eyes closing in relief. Even knowing that no time had passed in this world, the fear that things had changed, that Whitney was no longer alive, had gripped Tory.

“Tory…” Whitney trails off. She hugs Tory hesitantly, still confused as to what’s happening.

“Can I stay here for tonight?” Tory mumbles into her shoulder, eyes scanning the interior of the house.

Everything looked the same; she could see the colorful throw pillows Whitney was so fond of, the extravagant lamps and other decorative things Tory had hated when she was younger. She closes her eyes in relief and pulls back, blinking back the tears welling in her eyes.

“Of course. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen?”

“Which question do you want answered first?” Tory asks tiredly, smiling through the tears. Whitney glares at her tiredly and Tory smiles because no matter how well they get along now, Tory still enjoys riling Whitney up.

“Go to sleep, Whit. I'm okay. We'll talk in the morning, I promise,” Tory pushes Whitney up the stairs, ignoring her sputtered protests.

At the top of the stairs, she lets Whitney go, slipping into her old room before she can make any more conversation.

Lying in bed, Tory wonders what the other Tory is doing with Ben and Grayson at the moment. Was she eating breakfast, oblivious to the fact that her life had been invaded by another? Or maybe at work, looking at some long forgotten cold case as Tory was wont to do sometimes.

“Karasi,” she calls quietly into the darkness, the word spoken like a prayer with reverence. The room around her remains still and silent.

“Karasi,” she calls louder, hoping, praying that she will come.

The faint smell of lavender fills the air as Karasi shifts out of the shadows of the corner of the room.

“I cannot take you back, my dear,” she says pityingly, her face hidden in darkness. Tory swallows around the lump in her throat. She sits up in bed, looking into the darkness where Karasi stands.

“I know. I wanted to say thank you for showing me what I- what I could have had,” Tory croaks, her voice breaking midway.

_What I still could have,_ the thought comes unbidden but it sends a surge of warmth through Tory that she can’t help but relish.

“Take action wisely, my dear. I will return,” she turns as if to melt back into the shadows. Tory holds out a hand. “Wait!”

Karasi turns back, gray eyes glimmering in the darkness.

“You said I would leave when I learned what I needed to but I don’t know what I learned,” Tory whispered.

Karasi is quiet for a moment and then she leans into the light, gray eyes soft with emotion.

“Oh but you do. You have learned more than you can possibly imagine, my dear. It will come to you when you’re ready to accept it.”

Karasi’s voice is firm, so confident in the knowledge that Tory will accept this, the loss of everything. Tory doesn’t have the heart to tell Karasi that she’s misplaced her faith.

Something profound shifts in Karasi’s eyes and it’s as if she’s read Tory’s mind because in the next moment, she’s holding something out to Tory.

“Perhaps you just need a reminder.”

When Tory reaches down and holds the object to the light, her breath catches.

It's the picture from the back of the album, the one she loves most. Something swells in her chest, too big to contain and far too complex to describe.

“Thank you,” she whispers into the dark, silent room. Her only response is the wind that sweeps into the room.

* * *

 

“Check!” Grayson exclaims, looking up at Tory to make sure she’s witnessed this historic defeat. 

Ben groans dramatically, dragging a hand over his face. She hides her smile in the curve of his shoulder, amused by his theatrics. When Ben moves his next piece, Tory examines the board over his shoulder and signs to Grayson to move his queen to the tile they’ve clearly labeled ‘E4’.

Ben’s king is caught, Grayson’s queen and rook caging him in.

_Checkmate._

Tory beams at Grayson, watching as he gets up and runs around the living room cheering, Cooper at his back barking.

Ben glances back at her, dark eyes shining with amusement.

_I let you win, Victoria. I won’t go so easy next time._

Tory raises an eyebrow incredulously, propping her chin up on his shoulder.

_You let Grayson win. Square up, Blue, I’m going to mop the floor with you._

_Are you insulting my hair?_

Tory laughs out loud, shaking her head softly. She leans in, turning his head towards her with a soft touch at his jaw, resting her forehead against his.

“I love your hair,” she murmurs, kissing him chastely.

It’s raining outside, one of those Carolina summer thunderstorms Tory has grown to love so much. They’d taken to board games, Grayson, ever the precocious child, insisting on learning chess.

_Tea?_

Tory is awfully quite fond of this new development in their powers.

_You read my mind._

He gets up, heading into the kitchen. Through the kitchen windows, Tory sees the flash of lightning that illuminates the backyard and a few seconds later, thunder rumbles overhead.

It feels strange to feel so safe and peaceful with a storm battering at their defenses. Almost like being in the eye of a storm.

_Danger,_ Coop says.

Tory turns back to Cooper and Grayson, watching as Grayson pets Cooper’s fur gently with pudgy fingers.

_No, Coop. Safe. Home._

It wasn’t the first time she’d caught Grayson communicating directly with Cooper, something the others had never been able to achieve even now with the new easy strength of their powers. It worried her, how powerful he was at such a young age. Every display of his abilities reminded her of the distress she’d felt when she’d gone into his head, the ringing in her ears, the way he’d looked at her with tears in his eyes.

She didn't want that for him. A chill ran down her spine as she thought of the men in the black, ghosts from years past that haunted her once again.

 

“Grays,” she called, needing to feel him in her arms.

He settles in her lap, tucking his head under her chin and they sit there quietly, waiting for Ben to join them, Tory smoothing a hand down Grayson’s back as he struggles to stay awake, the excitement of the day getting to him.

He’s asleep by the time Ben settles back at her side, handing her a mug. She inhales the sweet aroma, her face growing flush in the steam. Ben leans back against the couch, sighing in contentment.

She turns, looking at Ben solemnly. He looks peaceful, soft dark lashes fluttering over smooth dark skin.

“Hey…” she calls softly, getting his attention. She reaches down, linking their fingers together.

“I love you,” Tory mouths slowly, her heart pounding.

_Love you_ , his response comes, soft and quiet in her mind as if it’s second nature by now. She supposes it is.

They sit there, fingers intertwined, listening to the rain pound away at the windows. In her chest, her heart beats a similar rhythm and she thinks _I love you I love you I love you._

The sound of Whitney’s voice echoing up the stairs startles Tory and she blinks, finding herself in her room at Morris, the memory dissolving before her eyes, taking it with the soft warmth and leaving only a cold reality.  

Her stomach churns and her eyes sting and there’s a repeating staccato thought in her head, telling her this isn’t _right._

She clamps a hand over her mouth and runs for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she’s flushing away the contents of her stomach. When she manages to drag herself away from the porcelain bowl and stand, she finds herself staring at a stranger in the mirror.

No more is the stylish haircut of her other self or the full face glow she had. No. She looks _tired,_ skin pale and haggard, hair a tangled mess, the bags under her eyes dark and pronounced after little sleep.

She stares in horror, a memory of long ago drifting to the front of her thoughts. She looked as she’d felt when she’d lost her powers, defeated.

She swallows down the persistent acrid taste of vomit, splashing water on her face, trying to get rid of this image, this face, that shows her years and years of quiet discontent.

She thinks of Karasi’s question and laughs bitterly.

What had she learned? She’d learned she wasn’t happy and now that she’d seen what could have been, it wasn’t enough.

Whitney calls up the stairs again, yelling that her breakfast will get cold.

_Good,_ Tory thinks bitterly.

She’s heading downstairs, feet dragging when she catches sight of Jackson.

He’s lying down on the carpet in his room, short limbs starfishing across, staring up at the ceiling. She comes to lay down beside him, looking up at the plastic stars taped on the ceiling.

“What you thinking about?” she asks softly.

“I want to be an astronaut,” he responds solemnly. Tory smiles a little, thinking of another little boy who loved the stars as well.

“Let’s hope NASA has more jobs by then, monkey.”

* * *

 

Tory’s period of grace ends on the third day.

It’s been 3 days since the glimpse, since she’s last been at the Manor or to the office or really anywhere she knows she’s sure to run into Chance. Instead, she’s been lazing around the compound, looking after Jackson. At first, Whitney is delighted, being able to catch up on sleep or go out and run errands for the upcoming debutante season but her curiosity finally gets the best of her.

Frankly, Tory’s surprised she lasted this long.

“Sit,” Whitney demands, pointing at the couch. In the kitchen, Kit looks up from his work and gives her a pitying look but remains silent. _Traitor._

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or should I sign you up to help with the upcoming season? You clearly have a lot of free time on your hands.”

“I’ll talk,” Tory surrenders, knowing she’s fallen into Whitney’s trap.

Whitney smiles victoriously and sits on the couch, smoothing her hand over her dress.

“Good. Perhaps you want to start with why you’re avoiding Chance’s calls,” she asks sharply and it shouldn’t feel like an accusation but it does.

Tory winces and slouches back into the couch, grateful when Whitney doesn’t say anything about her posture.

“I just needed some time to think about… stuff,” Tory finishes weakly.

Whitney gives her an unimpressed look but forges on.

“Tory, honey, are you having second thoughts about marrying him?”

Tory knows that Whitney has always approved of her relationship with Chance. Marrying into a good family, that’s the belief she grew up with. Still, she doesn’t sound disappointed, only sympathetic.

Not for the first time, Tory thinks she really should give Whitney more credit.  

“Maybe… Yes?"

Whitney nods her head as if accepting something only she can see. She stands and sits beside Tory, reaching around to grab the hair tie that’s slipping off her messy ponytail.

“If it were anyone else, I’d say they were having a mid-life crisis,” Whitney smiles gently, gathering up Tory’s hair in her hands. “But you’ve always been too smart for that.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Tory confesses quietly, all too aware of Kit’s presence in the kitchen.

For a moment, Whitney doesn’t say anything. She just sits, quietly gathering Tory’s mess of curls up into a bun. Finally, her hands fall to her sides and she speaks.

“Tory, you can’t give up your life to make someone else happy. There has to be a line in what you’re willing to do for someone else. Leading him on is just going to make you both miserable. Chance is an adult, he’ll be okay,” Whitney smiled gently, blue eyes glittering with some unnamed emotion.

“Did something happen?” Kit asked, standing from his seat in the kitchen and pushing back the brown curls that flopped into his face.

“I just kind of realized that I wasn’t really happy?” Tory grimaced, hoping that Kit would get the _‘I don’t want to talk about it’_ vibes.

“Someone out there will,” he promised, giving Whitney a sappy smile. _Ick._

“We support you no matter what,” Whitney adds, giving Tory’s hand a gentle pat.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Tory remained silent. She felt the cushion beside her dip as Kit sat down on her other side.

“To be honest, I didn’t really like him anyways... although I must admit he does have great hair,” Kit mutters under his breath after a moment of silence.

Whitney giggles and Tory groans but she still feels warm when Kit tugs her into a hug. Whitney looks on with a smile.

“I just want you to be happy, kiddo,” he murmurs against her temple, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

Overhead, she can hear Jackson clattering around, calling to Cooper.

“I am,” she sighs, squeezing Whitney’s hand in hers.

_I will be._

* * *

Ella stared at her open mouthed, plastic spoon dangling loosely from her lips.

It had taken Tory another two days of seeking refuge at the compound before she was finally able to step back into town and only then because she had desperately needed someone to talk with and Ella, as always, was the perfect candidate.

“Brennan, are you on drugs?” Ella whispered, eyes peering around them to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Tory shook her head, her curls falling into her face. She swatted them away and looked at Ella as she collected herself.

“So you’re telling me you actually went to a parallel universe in which you were married to Ben Blue with kids and we were all still Virals? You know this sounds crazy, right?”

Tory rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation.

“Yes El, Im aware I sound like a nutjob but...” Tory trailed off, slipping the picture from the other world from her pocket. She thumbed at the worn edges, biting her lip as she looked down at the happy faces.

Everywhere she went, it burned a hole into her clothes, taunting her with what could have been. She couldn’t bear it and yet she couldn’t leave it.

She laid it on the table carefully, eyes glued to the fragile reminder. Manicured hands picked it up.

“Oh my god! Your son is so cute!” Ella cooed. She looked up at Tory, face going serious in a second flat. “I'm his godmother, right?”

Tory groaned.

“Elllllaaaa,” she whined. “You're supposed to be giving me advice on what to do.”

Ella put the picture down, scooping a spoonful of froyo into her mouth.

“But you've already decided that you're going to break things off with Chance, right?” Ella asked, lowering her voice.

“Well I can’t exactly marry him feeling the way I feel. Being in that world, being… with Ben, it just made me realize how… unsatisfied I was with Chance,” Tory frowned at her yogurt, swirling the pink goop.

“What about Ben? Our abilities?”

Tory shrugged, she still hadn’t figured out whatever it was that Karasi wanted her to learn.

“I don't even know if he’s single,” Tory says and Ella snorts.

“Yeah cause there’s so much time in the army for dating. Oh and the choices,” Ella teases, laughing brightly when Tory glares at her.

“Hush you,” Tory threatens, jabbing her plastic spoon at Ella menacingly.

They fell silent, Tory deep in thought. Ella reached out across the table, her hands wrapping around Tory’s, grey-green eyes boring into hers.

“You know I’m here for you whatever you decide,” Ella says softly, giving Tory a small smile.

Tory smiles and really, she wasn't sure what she’d done to deserve such an amazing friend.

Ella pulls back and gives Tory a sly grin.

“So… did you have sex with him?”

Tory chokes on her yogurt.

On second thought, she needed new friends.

* * *

 

_The boys glanced at each other. Their smiles faded. Something passed between them._  

_Abruptly, both looked at me._

_I could see a question in their eyes. A resolve to see something through._

_In a flash of dread, I realized I could delay this no longer. There was no putting it off._

_And yet..._

_The loss of their powers weighed heavily on her soul, an empty echoing darkness at the back of her head where the bright golden ball of power had once lived._

_She felt less than who she’d been with them, less than who she’d been before them._

_She didn’t know who she was without them and how could she be with someone when she didn’t even know who she was on her own._

_My eyes met a dark, intense pair staring back earnestly. Longingly. Fearfully._

_Her heart ached with a phantom pain, the ghost of something that could have been. She tried to convey her grief, to make him understand why she couldn’t but it doesn't matter in the end._

_She steps back with shaking legs, her eyes falling to the floor before her._

_She pretends she doesn’t hear Ben’s sharp inhale or his footsteps as he walks away._

Tory sits up gasping for air, overwhelmed with the memories that ran through her head.

She stumbles out of bed, making her way to the bathroom on shaky legs.

She climbed into the shower, clothes still sticking to the sweat on her skin. The cold water feels like a thousand sharp needles digging into her skin but it helps her wake. Helps her think.

Because she finally thinks she understands what Karasi wanted her to learn.

And for the first time in a long time, Tory doesn’t want to run from the truth.

  
She’s done with living in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait cupcakes! So this chapter is quite literally the point of deviation between the two worlds so I would really really love it if you guys could tell me what you think it is that Tory learned and how her choice affected her life. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed!


	7. All the Promises We Adore

_Though we’re tethered to the story we must tell_

_When I saw you, well I knew we’d tell it well_

_With a whisper we will tame the vicious seas_

_Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees_

__-“Turning Page” Sleeping At Last_ _

 

The sand slipped through her fingers, soft and warm and grainy. She hadn’t been here in a long time but even so, she still knew the exact place where the bunker had stood before it had burned.

She sat above it’s remains, looking out to the sea beyond the dunes that had once hidden the bunker from sight. 

Leaning back, she closed her eyes and let the warm Carolinian sun wash over her, a gentle familiar embrace. She ran her hand through the sand and for a moment, she could almost fool herself into believing it was the smooth wooden bench that had lined the bunker’s walls.

 _Ben’s bench,_ she thought with a ghost of a smile.

Part of her wanted to dig her hands into the sand and dig, dig until she came to the burned and charred ruins of the bunker. The bunker where she’d made her first real friends. Where they’d nursed Cooper back to health. Where they had become Virals.

The bunker had been _their_ place for so long and even now, the thought of it buried below her…

She shook her head softly and let the sand fall away.

She’d been chasing ghosts for so long…

How had she never seen it before?

She’d spent the last fourteen years trying to get back to that day, trying to be Viral again and in the end, it had simply been within her all along. She’d just become too passive to realize it.

And it didn’t end there. No. Working at Candela, never seeing her family or friends, even marrying Chance; Tory had thought that the glimpse was a dream but now she realized it was the freezing dose of reality that had woken her from one.

 _And you’re supposed to be a genius,_ a dark embittered voice deep within remarked.

Shaking the sand off her hands, she balled her fists and jammed them over her eyes, taking a deep stabilizing breath.

When she opened her eyes, she found that she wasn’t alone.

“How are you adjusting, my dear?”

“About as well as one would when their entire world’s been flipped upside down and inside out,” Tory murmured, squinting at Karasi who had settled beside her. She seemed different, lighter in a way.

“Did you think this would be easy? You've faced far more difficult things in life, my dear Victoria.”

Beyond the great sandy dunes, the bay glimmered in the light of the dying sun.

“You once told me that the glimpse was a gift and very few ever get that opportunity… Why was I chosen? Why now? Why not… why not when my mother died?” Tory asked, her voice solemn and quiet as she stared out at the horizon.

“My dear…”

Karasi trailed off and for the longest time, they sat silently, staring out to sea.

“It wouldn’t have changed the fact that your mother was dead,” she answered gently.

“The glimpse is meant to help the lost, it’s meant to show you a different way, a better way. Back then, you found it in your family, your friends. You have to want to change things and you did, you do,” Karasi touched a hand to Tory’s cheek.

Tory nodded, her vision blurring. Karasi let her hand drop and with a sigh, heaved herself up from the sand. She held out her hands to Tory, pulling her up easily when Tory grasped onto them.

“Of all the people I’ve guided through the glimpse, you are perhaps the one I will miss the most,” Karasi smiled kindly.

Tory felt a wave of irrepressible fondness wash over her and she couldn’t help the urge to hug her. Karasi froze in her arms, startled by the sudden display of affection but after a brief moment, she relaxed and wound her arms around Tory.

“Thank you for everything,” Tory mumbled into Karasi’s shoulder.

“It was my pleasure, child. Remember, forward always.”

“Forward always,” Tory echoed as she stepped back.

For the last time ever, Karasi vanished into thin air, leaving Tory standing alone on the buried remains of the past.

* * *

Tory kicked the ball forward, sending it straight into the net. Cheers erupted all along the field, the referee blowing the whistle to signal halftime.

Tory made her way to the bench, smiling at the girls who came up to congratulate her. Ella ran up beside her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Brennan!”

Tory grinned, grabbing her water bottle from the bench and taking a long swig. Tory loved soccer, she’d played it all throughout college on both the women’s soccer club and the divisions three team. When Ella had called her earlier asking her to join the impromptu game in the park, Tory had jumped at the chance of a distraction. There was only so much of Whitney’s endless probing questions she could take.

The whistle sounded and Ella grinned, jumping on her toes to pump herself up.

“Let's go beat these guys,” Tory turned, running back onto the field, Ella following behind.

The other team started with the ball, running downfield, kicking the ball back and forth between players. Tory darted in between two of their players, intercepting the ball, maneuvering it around and back up field. She sidestepped a tall girl from the other team, glancing up to pin the location of her teammates. Ella was near the goal and two other girls were running defense, keeping the other team away from Tory.

Tory kicked the ball to Ella, blood pumping loudly in her ears. She ran further up field, awaiting the ball when she caught sight of someone standing beyond the chainlink fence of the park. Leaning against the fence, fingers hanging on to the metal, dressed in familiar dark jeans and a black muscle shirt, was Ben. Their eyes met and Tory resisted the urge to shiver.

“Tory!”

Tory whipped around, the ball heading straight toward her. Tory kneed it, letting it drop to the floor and pivoting on her feet to position herself to kick. The goalie, a big-chested blonde with a nasty sneer, stared her down. From the corner of her eye, Tory saw Madison inch her way to the other side of the goal. Tory pulled her foot back, pretending to kick the ball into the net and instead kicking it sideways at Madison. The goalie dove to the side as Madison sent the ball spiraling into the net.

Cheering, Tory jogged over and high-fived Madison. While Tory still wasn't exactly friends with the former Tripod queen, years of exposure had gotten rid of any awkwardness left over from their high school years.

Madison smiled at her and then her eyes flicked up over Tory’s shoulder and she waved. Tory looked over her shoulder and saw Ben give a short wave. Tory blinked in surprise but whatever questions her mind had begun formulating were scattered in the wind as the referee blew the whistle. The rest of the game followed in a similar fashion, Tory’s team running circles around the other girls.

The game ended with Tory’s team leading by a wide margin and Tory felt herself grinning, the pain jolting up her leg a mere twinge in the face of the pure unadulterated adrenaline she felt.

She limped to the bench, fingers already seeking out the bruises on her legs. Peeking up from under her lashes, Tory noticed when Madison jogged over to the fence, saying something to Ben. Ella plopped down beside her, looking in the direction of Ben and Madison.

“When did that happen?” Ella whistled, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Tory shook her head because no. It just wasn't possible. Ben and Madison? Not even in another universe would that ever make sense. Besides, he’d been in town for about 2 weeks top.

“Maybe they're just friends?” Tory suggested weakly as she watched Madison loop around to the outside of the park, carrying her soccer bag to where Ben was waiting for her. Together, they continued down the street, Ben looking back once before they crossed the street and disappeared from view.

“If it lets you sleep at night,” Ella muttered under her breath. Tory elbowed her.

Grabbing her duffel bag, she followed Ella out of the park, Ella silent beside her.

When they reach Broad Street, Claybourne Manor looming in the distance, Tory feels the ball of dread that settles in the pit of her stomach. It shoots ice into her veins and makes her hands shake with nerves, cold and clammy.

She didn’t know how to break things off with Chance but she knew she couldn’t keep putting it off.

Ella’s hand slips into hers, squeezing gently.

“He’s not home at this time, right?”

Tory shakes her head, biting her lip. In actuality, it couldn’t hurt to go and pack up some of her things. She didn’t have much at Morris, just old clothes that didn’t fit quite as comfortably as they once had.

Still, there was always the possibility that he’d left the office and headed home early which she hoped wasn’t the case.

“Can you come with me?”

She feels silly for even asking but the thought of going alone unnerves her.

“Couldn’t stop me even if you tried,” Ella smiles, bumping her hip against Tory’s, “now let’s go before he gets home and I find myself in a truly awkward situation.”

Inside the manor, all was silent. It felt a bit like being in a museum after hours.

Upstairs in the master bedroom, Tory started shoving clothes into her old suitcase while Ella wandered around the room. She would have to leave some things behind for later but it’s not like she planned on further postponing her talk with Chance… at least not by much.

She’s wrestling a pile of jeans and shorts from the top shelf when she spots it. The little box full of mementos.

She tosses the clothes onto the bed and grabs the box, setting it gently on the bureau in the main room. Opening it, she finds the dog tags resting right where she’d left them, atop the stack of photographs.

She lifts them from the box, watching as the silver little tags twist and turn in the light, the engravings carved deep into the surface. Something catches in her throat and then dissolves as a brief flit of joy shoots up her body.

“Are those Ben’s… dog tags?”

Ella’s eyes are wide, mouth slack jawed.

“Yeah,” Tory replies quietly, trying not to think of how sentimental it is when she slips the tags over her neck and tucks them into her shirt, shivering when the cold metal nestles between her breasts.

Ella shakes her head, giving her a disbelieving look.

“You’re so far gone, Brennan,” she comments pointedly. Tory makes a face.

They finish packing quietly, Tory gathering an armful of Cooper’s things.

When they step out of the manor, Tory chances one last glance at the structure. The manor had been her home for a year now but it never had quite felt like home.

She can’t help but think as she walks out the main gate, Ella chattering at her side, that maybe things were looking up.

Maybe she could someday have the life she’d seen in the glimpse.

The thought makes her smile.

* * *

It begins with Kit casually mentioning over dinner that LIRI is looking to fill in some positions. She thinks nothing of it, instead choosing to ask about the wolf pack. She hadn’t been to Loggerhead in a while. 

A few days later, the topic comes up again and Whitney pipes in, lamenting that the Magnolia League was still looking for graduated members to help participate in the mentorship program Whitney had instituted just this year.

Tory nods absentmindedly and continues shoveling potatoes into her mouth.

It isn’t until her Aunt Tempe comes up that Tory begins to suspect Kit and Whitney are trying to nudge her into a new career.

“It’s wonderful how respected she is in her field. Tory, honey, didn’t you want to go into the same thing as her?” Whitney hedges in not-so-subtly.

Tory hums from the couch where she’s helping Jackson with homework.

“I think it would be great. I mean, look at all the stuff you did as a teen,” Kit adds, looking up from his laptop. “And this time, you’d be doing it within the parameters of the law.”

Tory grins, ignoring the pointed look Kit sends her way. She corrects Jackson’s math, murmuring to him as she pointed out that he hadn’t carried over the one in his addition.

“I already have a job,” Tory reminds them.

“One you haven’t been to in a week,” Whitney remarks matter-of-factly, coming to stand behind Kit who looks up at her adoringly. “Are you planning on staying there after you break things off with Chance?”

Tory honestly hadn’t thought that far but she knows with absolute certainty that she has no desire to keep working at Candela.

The expression on her face must be telling. Kit raises a brow at her.

“Have you thought about maybe going back to school?”

“No, I haven’t and I know you’re only trying to help but could you drop it?” she pleads, a tad too sharp.

“Of course,” Whitney assures, smoothing a comforting hand down Kit’s shoulder. He looks like he wants to argue, press further but instead, he sighs and that’s that.

Tory finishes helping Jackson with his math homework and then excuses herself upstairs, leaving a sleepy Cooper at the mercy of a cuddly Jackson.

It’s not that she refused to think of her future, it’s more that she had yet to come to terms with how radically different her life had turned out from her original plan. And now how different her visions for the future contrasted from both.

She’d enjoyed working for the Charleston PD in the glimpse but she couldn’t imagine it for herself in this life. It seemed too much like clinging to the experiences of a past self. Even working at LIRI, which had once seemed so tantalizing a future, had lost it's appeal after so much time spent in the labs at Candela.

But if not forensics or scientific research, what appealed to Tory now?

She spends a long time thinking about it, staring up at the ceiling of her room, mapping out the imperfections in the plaster, the little chinks and dips. She’s not quite sure what possesses her to drag her laptop closer and search it up but something about typing it into the search box, allowing herself to indulge in the thought, makes her giddy. It’s a short-lived joy.

As she scrolls through the requirements, her heart sinks.

Truthfully, she’d never really thought about teaching as a possible career, instead enamored with the idea of living up to the Brennan-Howard name in scientific endeavors.

But she couldn’t deny that it felt… right when she thought about working with children, children like Grayson and Jackson.

She spends the rest of the night researching and when Jackson barges in to tell her dinner is ready, she startles, clutching the notebook she’d been scribbling notes on close to her chest. She waves him out of the room and then hastily shoves her notebook into her drawer, not quite ready to share this with anyone.

Still, she can’t help but feel light and happy as she goes downstairs to join the others for dinner.

* * *

 Whitney is fussing. 

Tory bats at her hands, leaning away from Whitney who sighs and throws her hands up in exasperation.

“I’m trying to make you presentable, Victoria!”

“I look fine. Go check on the debutantes or something,” Tory responds, pushing her off in the direction of the stage.

“Okay, I’m going. Look after your brother,” Whitney calls, half-turning to point at Jackson who is leaning heavily into the dessert table, her blonde hair shining a soft gold under the lights of the stage.

“Yeah yeah,” Tory waves her hand, turning back to Kit who is wrestling with his bow-tie. She pulls Jackson gently away from the table, handing him one of the chocolate truffles he’d been trying to reach.

“The more you struggle, the tighter it’ll seem,” Tory jokes, watching Kit struggle.  

“I hate wearing suits,” he grumbles, the pout on his face making him look boyish. Not for the first time, she revels in how young and happy he looks, so different from the Kit she’d seen in the glimpse.

“Dad?”

Kit glances at her, his hands falling to his sides.

“I’m glad you’re so happy with Whitney,” she smiles.

His eyes close momentarily and when they open, they’re soft with emotion, glimmering with unshed tears. Needless to say, Tory is alarmed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her dad cry.

“Are you going to cry?”

“No. No,” Kit shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m just wondering what I ever did to deserve you all.”

She smiles, a warm and happy feeling unfurling in her chest and sending ribbons of bubbly gold into her veins.

“And Colleen. She was too good for me too.”

Her smile falters, the mere mention of her mother still able to choke her up.

“Tory, look! I have chocolate fingers,” Jackson exclaimed, waving his hands in the air.

Kit laughs, smiling brightly as he led Jackson away to the bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before you dirty the nice clothes your mom picked out for you.”

“But I want more chocolate!” Jackson whines, his voice becoming indistinguishable in the din of the ballroom.

She stands there awkwardly for a moment, willing her emotions under control. Almost unconsciously, her eyes slide over to where the Gamemaster’s banner had once hung, a sunburst hidden behind a swath of yellow and white streamers.

For a moment, she’s transported to her own deb ball.

A desperate race against time to stop a madman, her frazzled nerves at debuting first in front of all of Charleston’s elite, the acrid fear she’d felt down in that basement and then the pure rush of adrenaline the flare had granted them.

It hadn’t all been bad though, she thinks, the memory of Ben giving her away to Jason coming to mind, understanding she needed someone with experience at her side. Making her laugh. Hiram in his ridiculous top hat and velvet jacket. The exhilaration of being alive.

Whitney’s voice jars her out of her reverie, the room falling silent as she announces that the first debutante would be introduced shortly.

Tory hurries to her seat, waving to the Francis’ and the Taylors’ who are seated off to the left of the stage.

She sits, smiling at the unfamiliar faces around the table. When Kit finally settles beside her, a pouty Jackson on his left, she lets out a sigh of relief and edges her seat closer to his.

The minutes tick by and the low murmur of crowd grows inquisitive as they wait. Suddenly, Kit nudges her, pointing to where her phone is vibrating on the table. Whitney’s name flashes across the screen, urgent and loud despite being on vibrate.

“Hello?” she answers hesitantly.

“TORY! Thank god. Get backstage now!” Whitney shrills in her ear before the line clicks dead.

Kit sends her a questioning look and she shrugs, excusing herself and slipping backstage. Whitney spot her immediately, hands waving frantically.

“I need to start presenting the girls and nobody has gotten them into position,” she relays quickly, waving her hands. “Please, make sure that all the girls have their escorts chosen and are ready to walk when I call them.”

Shoving a clipboard into Tory’s hands, Whitney whirled, heading towards the stage. Tory stumbled toward her, catching her arm.

“Whitney!”

“Tory, please. Everything's a mess right now and I know you won’t let me down,” Whitney replied sincerely and with that, she disappeared behind the thick curtains.

Moments later, Tory hears her voice on the speakers, sweet and clear as she welcomed everyone. The applause was thunderous, the crowd clearly relieved to be back on track. Sucking in a deep breath and cursing Whitney under her breath, Tory turned.

She has the first few girls ready within minutes, standing with their escorts and ready to be presented. It isn’t until halfway down the line that she runs into a situation.

The girl was tiny, almost alarmingly so. She looked on the verge of tears, hands fisted in the soft pink tulle of her dress. With her blonde hair and pale blue eyes, she seemed almost celestial, like a statue you’d expect to see in a museum, forever immortalized in its other-worldliness.

She seemed familiar too.

The boy at her side reminded her of a young Hiram. Stocky, face still boyish with baby fat, an inky brown mess of hair. He was whispering something to her, concern clear on his face.

“You’re not going to mess up, Tess,” he was saying. “You practiced this like a hundred times.”

“But what if I trip and make a fool of myself in front of everyone? Everyone will laugh,” she fretted.

_Tess… Where had she heard that name before?_

In a blinding rush, it comes to her, the realization like a swift punch to the chest. Jason’s sister.

Tory could still remember how often Jason mentioned her, how she’d been the first person he’d thought of when they’d revealed to him the truth about the bomb the night of the ball. Looking at her now, all grown up, it strikes Tory how much time has truly passed.

Hesitating, she approaches the frazzled girl.

“Hi. Tess, is it?” Tory interjected, smiling kindly. Tess nodded, blinking wide blue eyes at her.

“I’m a friend of your brother’s. Tory,” she introduced herself. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Tess is shy. It’s obvious in the same way it’s obvious Jason is out-going, in the way it’s obvious Mrs.Taylor was clearly missing a few bolts and screws. (Whitney still loved sharing that story.)

“She thinks she’s going to trip on stage,” the boy pipes up, glancing at Tess. He continues, voice dropping into a whisper, “she doesn’t want to embarrass her family.”

“Timothy!” Tess hisses, her cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay to be nervous, I was too,” Tory assures. “How about this, show me your curtsy and I’ll tell you if you’re doing it right.”

Tess hesitates and then smoothly dips into a curtsy, wobbling a bit on her heels, back straight and head bowed. In her mind’s eye, Tory sees Whitney bowing in her tourniquet dress. Tess straightens, looking up at Tory from under the fringe of her lashes.

Tory clears her throat.

“That was good. Just bow your head a bit lower and don’t let your arms hang. Use them to accentuate your dress,” Tory advises.

“Could you- could you show me how?”

Nodding, Tory hands her clipboard to Tim and steps back. Smoothing her dress, a black cocktail with a slit up the side, she bows and holds, the whispers around her of little concern. Counting the beats in her head, she waits and then rises, smiling when she catches the look on Tess’s face.

“You’re going to be amazing,” Tory assures her and then adds, “And your family will be proud of you no matter what.”

Tess smiles shyly and mumbles a thank you.

“If anything, just imagine them all in their underwear,” Tory echoes, grinning when they both choke out surprised laughs.

She grabs her clipboard from Tim and continues down the line. When Tess is announced, Tory watches from backstage as she struts down the aisle and executes her bow flawlessly, only rising a bit quicker than she should’ve. Still, the crowd is clearly enamored by her, their princess in tulle.

When Tess launches herself at Tory backstage, hugging her tightly, Tory can only think of the notebook in her drawer and a quiet dream still folded in her heart.

* * *

 Tory laughs as she twirls, stepping back into the fold of Kit’s arms.

“Whitney’s been making you practice, hasn’t she?”

“She’s like a drill sergeant,” he groans, stumbling.

“Well at least you’re getting a workout. You do sit on your butt all day,” Tory teases and Kit squints at her.

“Pot calling kettle black, kiddo,” he retorts, stepping back as the song comes to an end and a soft musical number comes on.

She goes to follow Kit off the dance floor when a smooth voice from behind her stops her in her tracks.

“May I have this dance?”

She turns, swallowing thickly as she comes face to face with Chance. Glancing back at Kit, who looks at her questioningly, she shakes her head almost imperceptibly, knowing her time is up.

Slipping her hand into his, she lets Chance lead her back out onto the floor and pull her close, his hand falling to her waist. Placing one hand on his shoulder, she focuses her gaze on the black lining of his suit, determined to see this through. She owed him that much after having just disappeared.  

For the first few minutes, they are silent, swaying to the music like palm trees before a storm. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur in her ear, low and flat.

“Were you ever going to tell me you were moving out?”

Tory’s hand twitches and she has to force herself to look up at him. His face was like stone, the muscle in his jaw ticking furiously the only indication of his emotional volatility.

“Yes,” she answered lamely.

His eyes flick down to hers, hurt shining in the dark pools of brown.

“This was never gonna last, was it?” he asked, his hands dropping from where they’d held her. They come to a stop, a still island in a sea of dancing couples.

“Chance…” Tory trailed off. “Let’s not do this here.”

Looking away from her, he nods, hands clenching into fists. 

He opens his mouth and then bites down whatever he meant to say, instead turning on his heel and leaving her standing on the floor.

She’s only far too aware of their audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just in folks. College life is stressful and busy. Also writer's block is a bitch but here we are! Until next time, amigos. 
> 
> (Reviews go a long way in motivating me to write)


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